


Gentlemen Killers

by ErykaOnyx



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Double Life, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Foxma - Freeform, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Manipulation, Murder, Nox - Freeform, OCD, Obsessions, Obsessive Behavior, Secrets, Slow Burn, mlm, plots with porn, serial killer au, wlw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-02-08 03:57:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 58,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErykaOnyx/pseuds/ErykaOnyx
Summary: Edward Nygma is a skilled assassin moonlighting in Gotham City when he's beaten to a target by another professional, mysterious and wily. That man is none other than Lucius Fox, a respected inventor and professor by day, a deadly hitman by night with a reputation of leaving no trace of himself behind. Intrigued, Ed begins a hunt to identify his competition and a game of wits is played out on the streets of Gotham with the duo's shared commonality of exceptional intellect and frightening ruthlessness warring against each other. In their pursuit to unseat one another, both men may come to find in the other a reflection, a friend, and possibly more.
Relationships: Lucius Fox/Edward Nygma
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. Two Killers Pass Each Other In The Night

There were an infinite amount of details that went into a successful murder but Lucius Fox knew the main and most important concerns. 

The first: don't be seen. This was exceedingly easy to pull off. A service uniform was part of his arsenal and it may as well have been an invisibility cloak because whenever he wore it, people's eyes seemed to just slide by him. It got him through the front doors of the apartment complex with ease. It was mid morning, around 10 AM, a time when most people would have already left for work. He found the target's apartment and made short work of the lock before slipping in, undetected. 

The next: leave no evidence - of neither crime nor presence. After shutting and relocking the door, Lucius surveyed the apartment from where he stood. It was mercifully tidy and richly decorated with the type of interior design typical of these sort of high rises. Standing in one spot, Lucius unzipped his uniform and pulled it off, exposing the suit underneath. He stripped off his leather gloves and replaced them with blue latex. He withdrew a du-rag from his pocket and quickly tied it about his head, protecting himself from leaving behind any shed hairs. He stuffed his uniform back into the duffel bag he carried with him. 

After that: survey the space and make sure you're defended. Lucius was not armed with a weapon (he considered the knife he carried to be more tool than weapon) but most people in Gotham, even civilians, owned guns. He checked the most common areas first - under the couch and chair cushions, under the bedroom mattress, and in bedside drawers. He discovered five guns, one of which he pocketed, the others he stuffed into his bag. His goal was two-fold: recover the stolen evidence of his employer and eliminate the thief. While he took the time to search the apartment for the target information, he knew he would only accomplish both of his goals when the owner of the apartment returned that evening. 

_Prepare your methods._ Lucius was not a man of violence but he learned there were ways to take life that were less brutal and more scientific. In the living room, next to the sofa, there was a globe bar. He withdrew all six of the standard Gibraltor crystal glasses and made to replace them with a set he’d brought along. He noticed that the replacements were an ounce smaller than the originals. He’d just have to hope his target didn’t notice the slight change. 

The glasses he brought were all coated with a layer of saxitocin, a potent neurotoxin. A person would succumb fairly quickly after ingesting it so he knew he would achieve his goals without any drawn out delay. Poisoning was a far cleaner method than shooting or stabbing. Lucius didn’t care for the messiness of blood and organs. His way was more efficient. And when the job was done, he’d erase all evidence of his presence and stage the scene to tell a different crime. 

He was in for a wait. The target of his deadly intent was a thirty-five year old program developer by the name of Jacob Travers. Through his own resources, he’d learned that an underground tech firm called Nextant Inc. was hiring a skilled hand to deal with a company wide data breach. They wouldn’t reveal the nature of the breach but the goal was to return the stolen information and dispose of the man who’d discovered the flaw in their system that allowed for the penetration. The hit was several grand and Lucius didn’t see it as an overly complicated set-up. He did not partake in these behaviors regularly but he had still managed to build a whispered reputation for cleanliness, efficiency, and most of all, discretion. He took such jobs when he felt the need to sharpen his skill. What better way than to get away with murder? 

Lucius confined himself to the bedroom and calmly bid his time. He kept himself focused with breathing and mind exercises, tasks to keep him from growing bored and inattentive. After the passing of a few hours, he heard a key enter the front door and slipped silently into the master closet in the bedroom. He unscrewed the light bulb slightly and retreated into the dark corners of the closet. 

He heard the sound of a conversation and felt the slight foreboding presence of dread. If his target had brought home company that made his job harder though not impossible. But when he heard only one voice, he knew the man was only talking on the phone. He took a breath and relaxed.

He followed the sounds of movements around the apartment. Travers immediately entered his bedroom, kicking off his shoes and removing his clothes. According to the Nextant rep who put out the word, Travers was a former employee who’d been fired for the broad crime of misconduct. Apparently, the man had debts and was working in illegal hacking rings to keep up with payments. The stolen Nextant data was obviously worth a great deal of money to those who needed such information or were inclined towards blackmail. Travers was most likely the latter.

He listened to the man enter the bathroom for a few minutes before emerging and going back into the living room. Lucius glanced at his phone, checking the time. He had predicted that Travers, who had a history of drunken behavior, would immediately pour himself a glass of the whiskey in his bar into the now tainted glasses. Lucius didn’t have eyes on him but he had to assume Travers would follow his assumed script. 

Thirty tense minutes passed until Lucius heard the soft groans of pain float in from the other room. He let the man moan for another minute or two before he exited the closet and headed to the living room with soundless strides. 

Jacob Travers needed a shave and a haircut and a change of clothes and a shower. For someone with such nice accomodations, he seemed unable to live up to the decor. He was bent over, coughing noisily while his long dirty blonde hair flopped into his face. 

“Good evening, Mr. Travers.” 

Travers’ head jerked up with a gasp and his hand immediately dove into the couch cushions. Knowing he’d find nothing, Lucius calmly pulled the man’s own gun and pointed it at him. 

“I imagine you’re in some discomfort. The toxin I used to coat your glass is a really fascinating chemical. I’d give you a more thorough understanding but unfortunately, time is not on your side.” 

Traver’s face had gone red, his eyes bugging out with hate as he glared at Lucius. “Goddamn, house-breaking ni-” 

Lucius cocked the gun loudly and raised it to aim between the man’s eyes. “_Ah._ You’ll refrain from _that_ particular ugliness or I’m afraid you’ll find yourself in a considerable amount of pain for a much longer time frame. Now, listen please, as time is of the essence. You know that I’m here to retrieve the data you stole. That neurotoxin you’ve ingested will kill you in a short amount of time. I know your mouth has already started growing numb and it’s becoming hard for you to breathe. You’ll soon experience headaches and muscle weakness that will rapidly deteriorate you into a paralyzed state. If you tell me where to find the information, I’ll inject you with this.” He held up a glass vial of clear liquid before the man’s terrified eyes. “It’s diazepam and it will combat the effects of the poisoning. You may choose to take the information to your grave in which case I’ll simply blow up this apartment and everything in it. I like to avoid much collateral damage so I hope you’ll choose the former option. Make it quick. Once paralysis sets in, respiratory failure will not be far behind.” 

Travers’ eyes rolled in his head as he tried to understand his options which were really nonexistent. He seemed to recognize this soon enough for he spat out, “Safe...behind the headboard. Code 69420.” 

Lucius bit back his critique of the ridiculous pin. He turned and swiftly went into the bedroom, shoving aside the bed to reveal the safe hidden in the wall. He punched in the code and the door swung open. The contents of the safe were sparse. There were a few bands of money and on top of them - Lucius quirked an eyebrow. It was a small rubber penis. 

He picked it up, squeezing it between two fingers tentatively. When he felt the hard edge of metal, he took hold of the head and pulled, separating it from the shaft to reveal a USB plug. _What a peculiar method of deception._ He grabbed all the contents and returned to the living room. 

Travers was not in better shape. He’d slouched against the back of the sofa, his eyes rolling in pain, his breath getting increasingly shorter. Lucius paid him little mind. He unzipped a pocket of his duffel, withdrew a tablet and plugged the penis into the USB port. The contents window came up quickly and showed him exactly what he’d been told to look for. He found his data. He unplugged and replaced his gadgets in his bag. He turned to Travers who was straining to catch his eye, his expression painfully hopeful. Lucius actually felt a sliver of regret at having to snuff out that hope. He did not care to lie but it was something that he had to do to maintain his life. 

“Thank you for your assistance,” he said warmly. “Sadly, this diazapem won’t actually help you. There’s no stopping the saxitocin poisoning. You’re going to die but it should only be a few minutes more so you won’t be lingering.” While he spoke he began to retrieve his tainted glasses and replace Travers’ original clean set. He poured a bit of liquor into a clean glass and added a dose of powder, crushed sleeping pills. He mixed this drink, added a great deal of powder to the liquor bottle itself. And counted down the time on his watch. 

Travers lasted about six more minutes of wheezing, groaning pain before his heart stopped. Not violent, no, but as dignified as he could make it. And now to cover his tracks, he would pump the body with the drugged cocktail. Saxitocin was harder to trace and Lucius reasoned a more ready answer would be quickly jumped on. He didn’t expect the officers at the GCPD to delve deep into a case such as this. 

He pumped the alcohol into the dead man’s mouth using a hose. When he was sufficiently doused, Lucius quickly packed up his supplies, along with the money and the flash drive he’d taken from the safe. He put the light on low and turned on the TV, setting an alarm that it would shut off automatically in an hour. Then he checked the home, one last time, to see if everything else was in place, nothing left behind. And he finally slipped from the apartment. 

He took the stairs down, more likely to avoid running into anyone who could put him at the scene. He wasn’t wearing his service uniform now - it was too late for one to realistically be working. But he turned up the collar of his pea coat, wrapped his scarf around his mouth and pulled his flat cap low. He reached the ground floor and went out the front door, cutting sharply to stride down the block. No one else was on the street. He walked at a steady pace for three blocks before he hailed a cab to take him to where he'd parked his car. 

***  


The man known as Ed Nygma was in his car, parked across a high rise building of luxury apartments. Word on the street was that some hacker had gotten his hands on some data that an underground firm was going to pay big bucks for. It was decidedly less dramatic than his usual antics as the Riddler, his criminal alter ego. But it seemed like something with low level difficulty that would secure him a couple grand. That was reason enough to take a crack at it.

He’d followed Jacob Travers for a few days and noted his schedule. He would be home roughly around five o’ clock so Edward arrived an hour earlier to start his stake out. He mostly watched to see if anyone suspicious came and went but no such figures appeared. When the clock struck five, Ed saw Travers trudging up to his buildings, hands swinging at his side, talking animatedly into the wireless headset in his ear. Ed watched him to make sure no one tailed him in. He appeared to make the journey upstairs safe; Ed saw the light in his apartment go on. And so he sat and waited. 

His plan was to make his way into the apartment and catch Travers’ unaware. With gun and knife, he’d be more than equipped to have the man give up the goods on the location of the data. And afterwards, he’d shoot him and be done with it. 

He let some time go by to give him the cover of night. As long as Travers didn’t leave his apartment again, Ed reasoned he had time to kill. After Travers’ ascent, the only people to leave the building were a trio of middle-aged blonde women who scurried into a taxi and - presumably - a man who was fairly well covered but couldn’t have been Travers’ as this man was a few inches shorter. He walked off fairly quickly and Ed went back to watching the light in Travers’ apartment. 

He knew the man to have a drinking habits so he assumed he was upstairs getting quickly inebriated. When he saw the lights dim in the apartment an hour later, he thought it’d be a good time to get to work. He entered the building, undetected, and rode the elevator up to Travers’ floor. He made short work of the lock with his pick set and slowly pushed the door open to let himself in. 

He had his gun in one hand. He followed the low light of a table lamp into the living room and came upon Travers, head dropped back, body contorted, and obviously dead. Ed approached the body, checking for any signs of life and finding none. He touched a patch of skin and felt warmth. This man had been killed in the last hour, maybe ninety minutes. But he hadn’t seen anyone enter the building after Travers had. 

Unless they’d already been inside. 

Ed turned away from the body. Travers was dead. The information was likely gone too but he had to know. He made a beeline for the bedroom and started pulling out drawers, checking behind framed paintings, kicking aside rugs. He finally found the safe behind the bed. He looked at the number panel and smirked. He pulled a small case from his pocket. The print powder would reveal any latent fingerprints on the safe’s number panel. He dusted the powder across the surface then flashed his handheld LED light. Whorls of fingerprints lit up across the numbers 0-2-4-6-9. 

It only took Ed a few seconds to guess the correct combination. He entered it and opened the safe to find nothing inside, as expected. He shut the safe, annoyed, and prepared to leave. 

In the living room, he gave a glance over Travers’ body. There were no visible wounds of violence, no stab wound, bullet hole, or laceration mark. Ed sniffed the man’s drink cautiously and reasoned it had to have been tampered with. A much subtler way of killing but no less effective. He was miffed at being beaten to the finish line but also intrigued by such a wily opponent who had left not a trace of themselves. His mind traveled to the man he’d seen leave the building. He’d been so covered up Ed couldn’t make out a single distinguishing feature. But still, he had his ways of gathering information and he would utilize them. 

Ed slipped out of the apartment, empty-handed and went home. He had a new target to be interested in.


	2. Target Focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward Nygma applies his single-minded focus to identifying the mystery assassin and finds a possible suspect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suspend your belief a little when it comes to some science stuff in this chapter. More notes at the end.

The next day, Ed woke up bright and early to begin his new project. He couldn’t say what exactly fueled him in his pursuit to identify the other killer. But his intrigue was piqued and a little interest could always carry him a long way. 

He started by calling in a tip to the GCPD, alerting them of a foul smell coming from the high rise. Without his call, they probably wouldn’t learn of the body for another several days and he needed the corpse in police custody if he was going to stand a chance of getting a look at it. 

For his next stop, he could make his way back to the neighborhood of the crime and try to bribe or bully some shop owners into giving him their security footage. That would only work if their security systems were up to measure and the likelihood of that was low. Other than that, he had enough contacts around the city to tap into a network of possible information. 

His first stop was to Barbara Kean. She was one of the ruling powers in Gotham, her empire rising up to challenge the previous Queen of Gotham, Fish Mooney. Barbara took all the gangs under her control and started a coup, launched a war in Gotham. At the end of it all, Barbara didn’t exactly topple the Queen but she forced her out of Downtown Gotham. And half the city fell into Barbara’s hand. Fish’s main stronghold remained Uptown Gotham, a sizeable chunk in the city. And the two of them carved up Midtown and started taking pieces. It’s a chaotic struggle but isn’t the first the city’s seen nor will it be the last. Power is an ever changing thing. 

So he went to Barbara’s headquarters, the Sirens Club. It was early morning so there were few customers about. He spied Barbara herself at the end of the bar and made his way over. 

“Good morning, Miss Kean,” he greeted. 

“Nygma,” she replied, looking up from her papers. Her hair was chopped short and blunt. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“I wondered if you might have some information for me.” 

“Well, that is my business. Depends what you want to know."

“You know about the Nextant contract, right? The Travers hit.” 

“Yes, I heard it.” 

“Who answered the hit?” 

Barbara gave him a skeptical look. “I wouldn’t know that. Once the hit gets to the street, anyone who wants to can pick it up. As long as they’re able to prove it was them, they get the reward from the one who spread the hit.” 

Edward perked up. “And who was that?” 

Barbara rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Who else but Fish fucking Mooney.” 

So, Ed’s next stop was to Mooney’s Nightclub. 

The club’s namesake was nowhere to be seen but he did find Victor Zsasz cleaning his gun at the bar. The bald hitman had been on Falcone's payroll for years. Mooney had inherited him when Falcone passed along his crown to her and retired from the gangster business. 

Ed entered his line of sight and approached cautiously. Zsasz had a reputation for shooting first and asking questions later. Now though, he appeared pleasant, as he looked up from his task. 

“Hey, what’s up, Riddle man?” he said. 

“Not much,” he answered, sliding into the seat next to his. “I’m just on the hunt.” 

“Ooh, who’s the prey?” Zsasz wondered.

“Tell you the truth, I don’t know yet. That’s what I hope to find out. Do you know something about a professional who works as a ghost, leaves no trace of their self behind?” 

Zsasz’s brow furrowed lightly. “I never got the whole ‘ghost’ approach. It’s like if you’re not giving yourself a scar per kill or loudly proclaiming your plans on a public stage then what’s the point? For real, why kill people if you’re gonna be quiet about it?” 

Ed forced a patient smile. “Some people are more cautious than you, Victor,” he said calmly. 

Zsasz shrugged. “Can’t relate.” 

“So you don’t know about this pro?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Zsasz interjected and shot him a sneaky grin. “I know whoever they were, they would have met with Fish. The hit was out for what, a week? I think the guy must have come in sometime during the last week and spoke to the boss lady. But that was a few people, you know, Miss Mooney’s a very busy person. Who’s to say if your guy wasn’t among the many that visited this past week.” 

Ed listened closely and lightly clenched his fists. He knew he wouldn’t get any kind of security footage from Zsasz, nor would he be inclined to scour hours of footage and dozens, if not hundreds of faces. 

But if he wasn’t going to look amongst Mooney’s past clientele, he would look at the future. 

He had a contact, a scruffy, homeless guy named Reggie who he sometimes paid for surveillance in jobs. Reggie was in his mid-twenties and in the throes of an addiction. But he could park himself somewhere and monitor a place for hours if there was the promise of cash involved. Ed tasked him with staying on Mooney’s Nightclub, videotaping everyone who went in with a handheld camera Ed gave him. Ed figured the hitman would eventually show up to collect the bounty. 

After that, he headed to the scene of the crime. Or rather, across the street from it. There was a laundromat with a security camera on the side of the structure pointing towards Travers’ building. He went in asking politely for the footage and ended up slipping a hundred bucks to the owner who led him into the back office where a TV was situated. “Take your time,” he said and left Ed to it. 

Ed picked up the remote and played the tape back to the previous night, to the time between when Travers had gone up to when Ed followed him. The tape showed him what he had already observed: a trio of middle-aged women stumbling to the curb in front of the building so they could all pile into a cab. And then a single, solitary man who turns sharply and walks quickly down the block. Ed observed him closely, getting a good look at his outfit. He was dressed as any respectable businessman with a thick pea coat and sharp shoes. But he wore a cap that he pulled low over his eyes and his coat’s collar had been pulled up to protect the rest of his face. That caught Ed's attention - it had been upwards of fifty degrees last night, nowhere near cold enough for all that protection. This was a man trying to hide. 

He walked with his eyes forward and never once looked around or raised his head to an angle where the camera would have caught his image. He was a rather intriguing mark. Ed leaned into the screen, playing back the sight of the man walking and caught a flash of darkened skin. He hadn’t seen that before but now he knew this mystery man was Black. 

“And so another layer,” he breathed, contemplating. 

There were few assassins of color, at least that Ed knew. The ones he was aware of were Headhunter and Tigress, both of whom had much louder and bloodier ways of dealing with their targets. This was clearly some unknown agent, someone who valued discretion and dismissed the need for bragging. 

_How interesting._

He let some time pass before he called up another contact at the GCPD. “Ecco, dear.” 

“Mr. Nygma. What can I do for you?” came her cool reply. 

“I need to get into the morgue there and examine a body in your custody. One Jacob Travers. Do you think you can get me some time on the examination table?"

A pause as she considered then, “Sure, for the right price.” This was Ecco’s racket. She was a brilliant grad student who worked all over Gotham, in a couple different fields, each one used for subtle corruption, or leaking of information. She was fairly visible in the law-abiding world, yet all her ventures stretched into the underground. She wore the mask very well. 

Ed had approached her when he learned she was interning there as the records manager. She was a good one for listening in on phone calls or leaking specific details of crimes the police were trying to contain. And she charged well for her services. 

So after he settled his bill, he made his way to the GCPD. He waited on a text from her before slipping through the old service door and making his way through the back of the precinct. The side door of the M.E.’s office was unlocked and he slipped inside. Across the room at the other door, Ecco had it cracked and was looking in at him. “Fifteen minutes,” she warned and shut the door. Ed got to work. 

Ecco had done him the service of leaving the body out for his inspection. He had been autopsied so the stitches crisscrossing his chest were the only sign of injury to his person. Whoever killed him managed to get him in a vulnerable position without a show of force. He read the autopsy report and the official suicide ruling. A toxic screen had shown high levels of diphenhydramine, the main chemical in sleeping pills, and ruled that as cause of death but Ed was skeptical of that as well. More women tended to end their lives with sleeping pills and slit wrists. Men tended towards the use of firearms and hanging. That suggested to him the true cause of death was being obscured. He started a new chemical test, one designed to find harder to identify toxins. It took the better part of his allotted time to get the results back but he was gratified to see them. Amidst the booze and pills, there were traces of saxitocin in the victim’s system. Ed knew that to be a particularly powerful neurotoxin. It was not a common tool of Gotham’s garden variety assassin. 

Ecco knocked on the door, alerting Ed. He grabbed up the results from his search and tucked it under his arm before exiting the examiner’s room and sneaking undetected, out of the GCPD. 

When he was free of the precinct, he ducked into a coffee shop to survey his new evidence again and compose his thoughts. From the laundromat footage and the secondary tox screen, he was beginning to form a profile. _A well-dressed Black man with at least rudimentary knowledge of the effects of chemical agents. Obviously educated to some degree as that’s not common knowledge for one to come by easily._ Ed mused over the possible occupations a man with that knowledge could hold. _Chemistry teacher. Medical examiner. Forensic scientist. Maybe some police affiliate. Cautious. Meticulous. Clean. Yes, very clean,_ he noted specifically. He was building a profile and every detail was important. The more he thought about it, the more he realized the other professional was a man of not insignificant intelligence. It might be interesting to engage with such a fellow. 

He returned home and did a primary search for the staff of several establishments: local high schools, Gotham University, the major Gotham hospitals, and any research labs or pharmaceutical company in the city. He compiled a database after banishing every face that was white or female. That shrunk his pool of potential suspects to a manageable thirty-one. Not a bad place to start but he wanted to reduce it further. He went to meet with his contact, Reggie. 

When he found the derelict, he was fast asleep. Ed rolled his eyes and nudged him with his foot. “Wake up, Reggie,” he ordered. “What, am I paying you to sleep?” 

The disheveled man came awake bristling. “Easy, chief. I’m still on the job.” He unzipped his hoodie, revealing the running camera that he’d strapped around his neck. It had been recording through a gap in the zipper. 

Ed shook his head at the ingenuity of junkies and reached for his wallet to pay the man. 

Later, he’d review the camera footage. Fish Mooney had regular traffic in and out of her club throughout the day. He applied the same process of elimination, adding anyone that seemed too young to his eyes. He ended up with about twenty possibles. Reggie was in a good position; Ed got a decent look at almost everyone who came and went. He managed to get a facial snapshot of almost every Black man that entered the place, with three exceptions. 

The first was tossed out by the bouncers and kicked a couple times. He picked himself up and shuffled away in shame. The second rushed into a waiting cab. The third popped up his collar before stepping outside. It was this man that Ed focused on. He compared the third man to the laundromat footage. The height seemed spot-on but there was little else to go on. The coats in both videos were different. He searched his compiled list of staff members and tried to reference them from the little bit of face he could see in Reggie’s video. It wasn’t much to go on. 

He sat back and considered his options. He was _going_ to find this man’s identity, now if for no other reason than to prove he could. But he had to think how to draw him in. Ed was beginning to formulate a new game to play, something the other guy might like. Though he’d have to learn more about him in order to do so. That was the goal. 

He got some rest and the next day he was back on the grind. He put in another call to Ecco and she met him at the small park a few blocks away from the GCPD. She was dressed in a stylish red and black coat, black leggings, and red heeled boots. Her hair was tied down in its usual bun. “Mr. Nygma. I like the business you’re throwing my way.” 

“Then I hope we can keep benefiting off one another,” he replied. “Do you know this man?” He pulled out the print of the video showing the third man exiting Mooney’s Nightclub. Though his collar was up, he’d yet to put on his hat. All that could be seen of him was his short shaved hair and what looked like a somewhat prominent forehead. 

Ecco surveyed the photo for a couple seconds and a small smile came onto her face. “I do know him,” she replied and Ed’s heart sped up with anticipation. Ecco looked up at him, her brow furrowing curiously. “Would you mind telling me why you want to know him?” 

“I want to invite him to a game,” said Ed, quick to reassure that he did not mean immediate harm on the man. 

“What manner of game?”

“A battle of wits,” he said mysteriously, smiling at her. 

“Interesting,” she said quietly. “In that case.” She sat up with prim posture and stated, “The price for his name is five thousand.” 

His jaw dropped. “Five grand for a _name_? Would you also like my clothes and car keys while you’re busy robbing me?” 

Ecco smirked but didn’t change her stance. “That’s the cost, Mr. Nygma. It’s obviously valuable information to you and I have to make a living.” 

“You’d make a fine politician,” he grumbled. He took careful consideration of her offer. It’s not that he didn’t have the money but he didn’t make a habit of giving it away by the handfuls. Also, Ecco had been growing increasingly arrogant over her business, jacking up her prices on a whim or when she knew she had her clients over a barrell. She really was a cutthroat little savage. 

_“No.”_

Ed stood, buttoning up his jacket as he did so. He was gratified to see the shock of surprise flash across her face before she hid it behind her tepid mask. “I believe I’ll find the man on my own.” 

Ecco’s eyebrows went up and she shrugged lightly. “As you wish. Good luck to you.” 

He scoffed at her. “Luck is for the incompetent. I’ve got talent.” 

He returned to his home to continue his analysis. He had a list of businesses where the mystery man could potentially work and then he listed them from most to least likely. At the top of the list, pharmacologists, high school and college affiliates, and at the bottom, megacorporations like Wayne Enterprises. And from there he ranked the possible suspects that worked in each field. He had a tidy list by the end of it. His only course of action from there was to work his way down the list and try to reduce it to the last. He was sure he’d strike some names of the list quickly but it would still be a lengthy process. He considered ways to circumvent an extended hunt. 

He revisited the murder by inspecting the crime scene photos. Not a thing out of place, even the body looked oddly well positioned. Not a bit of force necessitated. That, in of itself was noteworthy enough. Hits were a fairly regular occurrence in Gotham and they were usually more bloody and often public displays. By subverting the manner of method, his mystery man was operating invisible. 

The man’s race was also something of a subversion. In a city of countless villians, most of them happened to be white. He was able to go undetected because of… a lack of expectation? 

_A quiet person_, Ed decided, trying to form the man in his mind. _A fierce intellect I can see. He knows common methodology well enough to do the_ exact opposite.

Slowly, Ed’s gaze lowered to the bottom on the list. Would it possibly be beneficial to start in the _least_ likely place?

He placed the point of his pencil at the bottom of the list, at _Wayne Enterprises_. 

There were two potential suspects who could fit the profile. Sid Bunderslaw and Lucius Fox. Bunderslaw was on the board of directors. Fox worked in research & development. He mused on how likely a megacorporation like Wayne’s might be able to hide a serial killer. He knew capitalists to be a bloodthirsty bunch but this might be taking it a little far. All the same, he’d follow the lead and strike it from the record as quickly as possible. 

The next morning, he walked confidently into the tower that was Wayne Enterprises. There were drones scurrying here and there but Ed only had eyes for the receptionist, a smiling brunette woman. 

He walked up to the front desk, observing how employees of the building swiped their ID cards at the turnstiles and were easily admitted. He made his way to the receptionist who greeted him with a polite, customary smile. 

“What floor, sir?” 

“Hi. I’m, uh, hoping you’ll help me.” 

“Well, I’ll certainly try,” the woman said, putting on a serious expression. 

Ed smiled. “I have a job interview in twenty minutes. But, for the life of me, I can’t remember who I’m supposed to meet. We had a brief Skype interview but I forgot the gentleman’s name. Maybe you know him? He was about mid to late thirties, dark skinned fellow, sharply dressed.” 

The woman made a thinking face for a few seconds. “I think you’re thinking of Mr. Fox. It can’t be Mr. Bunderslaw. He’s on the board and he definitely doesn’t conduct interviews. But I think you may have the wrong day. Mr. Fox usually has Wednesdays off.” 

“Wednesdays, are you sure?” Ed persisted. “Perhaps he’ll be in later?” 

She shook her head. “Not likely. Mr. Fox works part time here and part time at Gotham University. He’s likely to be there all day.” 

“What does he teach at G.U.?” Ed wondered. 

“I believe forensic psychology and crime scene analysis,” she replied. “He’s usually there all day Wednesdays. I don’t think your interview is today.” 

Ed gave an apologetic smile. “You might be right. I think I’ll go home and review that e-mail. Thank you so much for your help.” 

“It’s no trouble at all." 

He made Gotham University his next stop. He was able to get into the building fairly easily by slipping in with some students while the front desk guard was distracted. He knew the building well since he’d graduated from the very place. He was able to go to the information desk and obtain a list of the staff and where their offices were. He found Fox’s name and headed in his direction. He had emerged on the floor when his attention was snagged by a passing room. Ed stopped in his tracks and peeked in through the door’s window. A bespectacled ebon man was leading the class in a lecture. Ed’s eyes went to the plaque to the left of the door that read - Victimology 101, Professor Fox.

He’d found the man. Now, he just needed to learn if he was the killer ghost. 

He opened the door and stepped in. 

Lucius Fox stopped mid-sentence and Ed took a second to observe him. His clothing was sharp, expensive slacks, a well-tailored blue patterned shirt and a festive bowtie. Though he wore glasses, he took them off to survey Ed. 

And then he smiled and Ed forgot to take a breath for a moment. 

“Hello,” Fox said and his voice was low and smooth. “Welcome to class, even though we’ve been in session for some time. Please find a seat.” 

Ed nodded wordlessly and climbed the steps to drop into an unoccupied desk. 

“As I was saying, being able to form a victim’s profile is what often leads to the shaping of the criminal. Every detail is a link from one to the other, from reason to motivation. You will have to examine your victim, assess their psychological damage, and start aiming for the perpetrator of their crime. All roads lead home, people.” 

He sat for thirty minutes listening to Fox’s lecture. The man had a dignified but easygoing nature. He was warm and amiable to his students. He encouraged questions and didn’t feel the need to cut anyone down. While the man intrigued Ed, he began to have doubts that he’d found his killer. Lucius Fox just did not seem like the type. 

But, he reasoned, wasn’t that exactly the point? To appear docile and unassuming all the while hiding the true nature underneath. If he was right then Fox wore a brilliant facade.

When the class dismissed, he waited for the lecture hall to empty before he stepped down to address the teacher. 

“Excuse me, Mr. - I mean, Professor Fox?” 

The other man straightened up from organizing a stack of papers and gave a small smile. “Mr. is fine, if you prefer,” he said and extended his hand. “Mr…?”

“Ah, Nygma.” He reached out and gripped the proffered hand in a firm grasp and shook. “Edward Nygma. I wanted to apologize for being late. My cab got caught up in traffic.” 

“Mr. Nygma,” he said thoughtfully, giving him a brief up and down. Ed felt a slight thrill and wondered how he appeared to the other man. He made sure to stand up straighter. 

“I don’t believe you’re on my roster, Mr. Nygma. I definitely would have remembered a name like yours.” 

Ed blinked, surprised for a second before he recovered. “Well, that’s because I didn’t register for this class. I’m actually just here to ask for your help.” 

“What with?” Fox asked, sounding sincerely curious. His eye contact was direct and unwavering and Ed found himself drawn to this puzzling man. 

“I’m -” His mouth had gone dry. Why was he reacting like this? _Get it together, Ed,_ he ordered himself sternly and he coughed harshly to clear his throat and begin again. "I'm writing a dissertation on the subject of serial killers and I hoped you would lend some of your expertise in answering a few questions."

While he spoke, Fox leaned down and reached into his desk drawer. He straightened and said to Ed, “For your cough,” and dropped something into his palm. It was a honey cough drop. Without thinking, Ed unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. He felt it slide over his tongue and again had to wonder if he was on the right trail. Was this considerate man a liar and a murderer? Something about the idea of such duplicity excited Edward. It reminded him of his old days at the GCPD, flying under the radar, going unnoticed, until he had grown too big for that cage and set free. Could Fox be in a similar bind? Or was he just projecting due to his own sudden want? 

“Mr. Nygma?” 

Ed snapped to when he realized Fox was waiting on him to speak. “I’m sorry, come again?” 

Fox shot him a look, that was part chastisement and part amusement. It was an intriguing expression. 

“I was saying,” he started. “That I’d be glad to help you. However, I have classes blocked up until this evening and some work due after. When are you free to meet?” As he spoke, he withdrew his wallet and retrieved a card, holding it out to Ed. 

He examined it. It was matte black and had Fox's contact information in thin, gold script. Ed barely had to think about it. “Tomorrow afternoon? Say, around 2 o clock?” 

Fox tilted his head slightly in consideration. “I can do 2 o clock. We’ll make a late lunch of it.” 

Ed smiled broadly. “That sounds wonderful, Mr. Fox.” He extended his hand and shook the professor’s. “I look forward to hearing some of your theories. I’m sure you have an illuminating mind.” 

The only change in expression was a slight dropping of the jaw and then he chuckled in earnest. “I believe I already agreed to help, Mr. Nygma. You don’t have to resort to flattery,” he chided. 

Emboldened that he’d made him laugh, Ed pushed on. “But why not when it often gets me what I want?” Too late he realized how that could be misconstrued. Time to make an exit before he said something really damning. 

“I must be off,” he said, starting to back up. “Can’t keep showing up late to places today. I will see you tomorrow.” 

“So it will be. Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Nygma.” 

“You too. Have a good one.” He exited the room and added softly under his breath, “_Lucius._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I liked how this shook out though it was a little bit of a struggle at times. I recall Ed's pursuit of the Court of Owls and tried to showcase that same single-minded focus for this story here. 
> 
> So, the setting isn't canon Gotham. In this universe, Ed and Lucius had never met before. They both worked at the GCPD but at different times. Ed chose to leave and become the Riddler and let's say somehow, no one knows that they are one and the same so Ed can still move about in daily life and not worry about getting arrested. This version of Ecco is kind of like, if she never met Xander/Jeremiah and became devoted to him, and was just a burgeoning villainess in her own right. I don't know how much I'll delve into the Barbara/Fish dynamic I introduced here but you'll see where that rabbit hole goes eventually. And lastly, I hope this wasn't too much crammed together. I almost included Ed and Lucius conversation that'll take place next chapter but I figure breaking it up is probably better than putting too much in one. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you're liking it so far. Let me know how you feel. :)


	3. A Meeting of Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two killers sit down together and discover they have some things in common.

Lucius gave little extra thought to his meeting with Edward Nygma. He had other work to tend to but the next day, he decided he needed to coordinate with the other man and finalize their plans. He was about to call Mr. Nygma when he received a text message from him. 

_Good morning! Where shall we meet later?_

Lucius smiled at the enthusiasm and appreciated the proper grammar. He quickly texted back: _Adeline’s at 144 Bruckner Boulevard. It’s a jazz bar attached to a restaurant._

A minute later: _Sounds excellent. See you later, Mr. Fox._

Throughout his day, his thoughts wandered to Edward Nygma. Initially, he stuck in his mind for his lateness, something that Lucius rarely tolerated. However, when he learned why the other man had come seeking him out, he was a little more interested. Specifically, in how he became known to the man in the first place. He would put the question to Nygma when they met. 

The morning came and went. By the time noon had passed, Lucius was feeling famished. He left with the intent to arrive early and was pleasantly surprised by the sight of Ed Nygma already seated at the bar, scrolling through his phone. At Lucius’ approach, the bespectacled man looked up and gave him a smile. “This is a lovely establishment, Mr. Fox,” he said, turning to him and extending his hand. 

“It’s a favorite of mine,” Lucius commented as he grasped the other’s hand. Ed gave his hand a firm squeeze before releasing. 

“Will you be having a drink?” Ed asked. 

“I’m actually starved for food. Would you like to move to a table?”

They relocated with Lucius leading the way, further into the restaurant. The centered stage was empty of musicians, due to the time of day but soft music still played throughout the establishment, a skillfully played instrumental piece. Lucius chose a table near the middle of the room and sat with his chair facing the door. 

A waitress was along shortly to take their drink orders. Ed ordered first. “I’ll have a Cabernet Sauvignon, please.” 

“A Riesling, please,” Lucius followed with. 

“You prefer the lighter wines?”

“I confess to having something of a sweet tooth,” Lucius said. “It’s probably my most unhealthy habit.”

“Well, there are certainly worse habits to have.” 

They perused the menu before ordering a round of appetizers. Setting it aside for a moment, Lucius’ eyes traveled over Ed who was still choosing his food. He had a particular type of focus that Lucius hesitated a little to break. 

“Perhaps you could tell me a little more about this project you’re working on.” 

“Certainly!” Ed straightened up and looked him in the eyes. “It’s a work on serial killers, as I mentioned. Now, it’s in its early stages so it doesn’t have a solid form as of yet but I’m aiming towards creating a work that I could send to psychology institutes or medical journals, whichever it might qualify for. I confess this is something of a personal endeavor so I can only hope you have the time to offer your own insights.” 

“And how is it that I came to your mind when looking for your source?” 

Edward smiled and Lucius saw a hint of eagerness in the other man’s face. “I came to learn that we both have worked for the GCPD in some capacity or another but at different times, so our employments never overlapped. I was the lead forensic analyst for a time. You were their criminal expert and consulting detective, I believe. You spend half your time teaching some form of criminology, the other half working at technological developments at Wayne Enterprises. One can’t deny that’s an impressive resume.” 

“You’re a complimentary fellow,” Lucius commented, sounding amused.

“Forgive me for gushing,” he said with a bashful grin. “It’s seldom I find someone so interesting in my same line of work.” 

They received their drinks and gently toasted before they took hesitant sips and ordered their appetizers. 

“So, what type of questions did you have in mind?” Lucius asked. 

“Here’s what I have so far. I started by examining the crime rate in Gotham because it’s higher than most cities, of course. Metropolis experiences a lot of supernatural threats and we have our fair share of those, obviously, but this city has an unusual number of serial killers. There are countless factors that can contribute to that sociopathy, environmental, societal, and mental. I’m not looking at the root cause of it, as of right now. Rather I’m trying to classify the killers and point out how they differ from one another.”

“What are the classifications?” Lucius asked, curious. 

Ed held out his pointer finger. “Those that kill for pleasure.” He extended his thumb. “Those that kill for power.” He lifted his middle finger. “Those that kill for profit. The criminally insane like the Valeska brothers belong to the first category. Run of the mill gangsters like Fish Mooney and Barbara Kean belong to the second. And lastly, for-profit killers the likes of Victor Zsasz are in the last category. Would you agree with those labels?” 

He nodded. “I would.” 

“So, my query is this: with so many factors influencing the rise of such sociopathy, why do the three patterns veer off in such distinct directions? Can you offer a psychological understanding of these criminals’ mindsets?"

Lucius straightened in his chair. “Here goes: those that kill for pleasure are the certifiably insane. As the Valeska brothers are self proclaimed anarchists and nihilists, their disregard for human life is well within the scope of the insane. No one’s life is precious to them, except, of course, for the other brother. The gangsters of the city are locked forever in a power struggle. Maybe one rules for a couple of extended years but a war is never far off the horizon. In their minds, the killing is a necessity, a means to an end and nothing more. It’s almost more sinister than the psychopath because they don’t always have the capacity to recognize human life while the gangster does and just chooses to disregard that which is precious.” 

"An interesting take on it," Ed muttered. 

"I would hope the majority of people consider human life to be precious." 

Ed smiled without humor. "The reality might disappoint you. Living in a city like this can temper most people's optimism."

"To succumb to hopelessness is a defeatist's attitude."

He saw the look of surprise that flashed across Ed's face and the grin that swiftly followed. Those dark eyes and that wide grin made Lucius think of Lewis Carroll's Cheshire cat or perhaps some other trickster figure. His response was cut off when the waitress arrived with their appetizers. 

Ed had ordered the fried rock shrimp. Lucius had the chicken Caesar salad. As he was pouring a liberal amount of olive oil on his salad, Ed tried his food. His moan of appreciation caught Lucius’ attention and he had to bite back a smile as he saw Ed chewing with a reverent expression. 

“This is delicious,” he said when he’d finally swallowed. 

“Really?” Lucius feigned innocence. “I thought you hated it.” 

_“Ha ha.”_ Ed cut his eyes at him though he still smiled. “But I’m most interested to know your take on the final group: those that kill for profit.” 

Lucius mixed his salad around and used that moment to organize his thoughts. “That’s a harder one,” he admitted. “Because the killer-for-hire exhibits both the psychopath’s disregard for life and the gangster’s desire for profit since most work for monetary gain. It’s hard to see if they’re more or less dangerous than the other groups.” 

“What do you think of a man who kills for money?” 

“Me, personally? Well, the hitmen call themselves ‘pros’. I almost see them as a different branch of businessman.” 

“In what way?” 

Lucius met his eyes directly. “Well, Gotham has the slum lords who charge inordinate fees for suboptimal housing. And when their tenants fall back on their rent and are evicted, they become homeless. Many end up dead. But for some reason, the slum lord is never seen as directly responsible, even though they are and it was solely for monetary profit. Big businesses are the same. Those that dump chemicals in low income areas, contributing to disease and death, they’re never seen as responsible. So, for me, it’s hard to come down on hitmen when it seems like everyone else is trying to kill or displace someone else, with or without the use of violence.” 

Edward was listening with fascination etched across his face. “That is a rather unique opinion, Mr. Fox,” he said at last. “But I don’t disagree. Murder is just as lucrative a profit as anything else in this town.” He paused, consumed another shrimp before he asked, “Do you believe that it's possible that anyone can be pushed into insanity with just one bad day?” 

“That’s a Valeskian ideology. I don’t concur with it. I think we - as human beings - are stronger than just one bad day. At least some of us.” 

“Yourself included?” 

He chuckled. “Well, I don’t consider myself likely to become a serial killer anytime soon.” 

“But you’ve consulted on many cases concerning serial killers,” he pointed out. “So I imagine you would have gleaned something of their methodology. If you were in the killer’s shoes, what would you consider the most effective method for murder?”

“It’s not really something I could identify with,” Lucius said. “The majority of murders are committed with firearms so I guess I have to go with a gun.”

“Can you fire a gun?” Ed asked.

“Not to my knowledge,” he said quickly. “I’m not a fan of guns. I’d prefer not to be around them, if I can help it.” 

‘“Says the man who worked in a police station?” Ed asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Lucius smiled sheepishly and shrugged one shoulder. “An occupational need for tolerance. One that I cannot carry over into my personal affairs.” 

“What would you do in case of a mugging?” Ed asked. “Or if your life was in danger. Do you think you’d be motivated to murder then?” 

“Self defense is its own category, as you know,” Lucius explained. "The difference is in a killer and a person who kills. But even then, I don’t need to take a life in defense of my own. There are many non lethal tactics one can employ to deescalate a situation.” He gave a sardonic smile. “Not that Gotham’s finest can be bothered to learn them.” 

"Now, now. We mustn't chastise our brothers in blue. I'm sure despite their rampant corruption, itchy trigger fingers, and eagerness to act with impunity, they really are trying their best."

Lucius covered his derisive snort. 

Eventually their entrees arrived and they dug in, Ed into his grilled catfish, Lucius into a medium rare steak. He noticed Ed watching him with an almost pained expression as he cut into his meat and he merely smiled, amused. 

“That’s a most uncomfortable face you’re making, Mr. Nygma.” 

“If that cow were any pinker, it’d be grazing in a field somewhere, Mr. Fox.” 

Lucius chuckled, shaking his head and returned his attention to his meal. “I can’t help what I like.” 

“I could cook a much better steak than that,” Ed grumbled lightly. 

“You have some experience in the kitchen?” 

“Yes, that and an appreciation for fine cuisine and an enthusiasm for creating delicious new delicacies.” 

“That sounds like quite the passion.” 

Ed focused on cutting into his food but Lucius could see the grin he sought to hide. He couldn’t help but note how the other man responded to perceived compliments. “It’s a hobby,” he corrected. “One that I happen to be very good at.” 

“What other hobbies do you have?” He found himself intrigued by the other man. His opinions and his intended work gave Lucius something to mull over. 

“I’m skilled at chess and almost all puzzles. I’m a decent showman and MC. I also like to build things.’’

“Engineering?"

“Yes, mostly mechanic, some chemical.” 

“Have you ever worked with different propulsion systems?” 

"Yes! Aquatic propulsion when I attempted to build a submarine. You?” 

“Aerial. When I was designing jets for Wayne Enterprises.” 

Ed’s grin widened. “You are -” He cut himself off and busied himself with his food. 

“I’m what?” Lucius asked curiously, leaning forward. 

Ed glanced up. “I was going to say, you’re a rare find.” He winced lightly. “Just ignore that. I know I can be a bit too...intense at first.” 

Lucius smiled graciously. “On the contrary, I've rather enjoyed our conversation. Most of the time I’m either lecturing to a study hall of young undergrads or I’m lecturing in a board room of executives at Wayne. It’s nice to speak _with_ someone rather than at them.”

Ed smiled, a genuine expression that Lucius found he rather liked. 

When the check arrived, both men reached for it at the same time. He felt his fingers brush over Nygma’s as the other man caught the corner of the checkbook. “Allow me,” he insisted. 

Lucius held fast to the other end. “I do not,” he responded mildly, noting the surprise and interest that flashed across Nygma’s face. The man was really expressive and thus, easier to read. “I’m a regular here, after all. I have a reputation to uphold.” He tugged on the book but Ed wasn’t going to let go easily. 

“Perhaps, a game?” he suggested, his eyes glinting behind the lenses of his glasses. “I’ll ask three riddles, if you can answer a single one then you’re free to decide who pays.” 

“A riddle? Interesting wager." He let go and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together. “I accept. What’s the first?” 

Ed shifted the checkbook between them and straightened his back. He licked his lips in preparation and declared, “I am often dreaded, yet once you know me, you are often stronger. Those who know me are often proud of me but I am never the object of envy. What am I?”

Lucius gave it a few seconds thought. He thought he had a good chance so he answered, “You're fear.”

Ed's eyes narrowed slightly then he broke out in his big grin. “Afraid not, Mr. Fox,” he replied, chuckling. “The answer is _struggle_. I think people are rarely proud of their fears.”

“Fair enough,” Lucius conceded. “Give me the second one.” 

“Okay." Ed adjusted his glasses and began again. “A heart of stone, shrouded in the corpse of a tree. As I trek the white expanse, I leave my mark where I go. What am I?”

He thought about it for a little longer than the first time and answered cautiously, “A wooden sled?” 

Ed tsked and shook his head. “No, the answer is a pencil. Heart of stone is lead, corpse of a tree, the pencil’s body.”

“Oh, well, it’s so obvious when you put it like that,” he said dryly. “I thought the white expanse was snow.” 

“Do sleds have hearts of stone that I don’t know about?” 

“Do _I_ look like I’m overburdened with knowledge on winter sports?” 

“I couldn’t _begin_ to wonder what such a person must look like.”

They both came to a sudden stop, letting the banter fade until Lucius spoke. “The last riddle.” 

Ed nodded. “I am the light in the dark. I am warmth when it is cold. I am a map when you are lost. Past does not have me. Only the present and future can have me. I cost you nothing. I cannot be stolen. I cannot be bought. If you have me you can have anything. But without me you have nothing.”

Lucius fell quiet as he considered. He knew this one; he was almost certain. The answer was hope. But as he surveyed Ed’s expectant face, he wanted to see how and if he could manipulate this man. He was obviously of a particular intellect with keeping his own interests close to the vest. Lucius didn’t see why he couldn’t as well. 

If he answered correctly, he would win and make the choice on who would pay. Ed wanted to; it seemed important to him so if he let him win he would choose himself, the choice Lucius would have gone with all along. He smiled and spoke false, meeting Ed’s eye. “This answer is love.”

Did he imagine the slight flush he saw in Ed’s cheeks? Did his pupils dilate or was it too dark to tell? Either way, Ed straightened up, shaking his head with a victorious grin. “Wrong again. The answer is hope.”

“Ah. So I’ve been bested.” He leaned forward, pushing the checkbook towards Ed and caught the man’s eyes. “I intend it to be the last time that happens.” 

Ed’s gaze was transfixed, his wide smile in place. “I suppose we’ll see, Mr. Fox.” He drew back and reached into his pocket for his wallet. “If you’d like to leave the tip that would be acceptable,” he said as he fished out a credit card. 

Lucius did the same, reaching to retrieve a single bill that he laid inside the checkbook and Ed slipped his card on top of it. He then glanced around. “Do you see our waitress anywhere?” 

He glanced over his shoulder and surveyed the dining area. There were some workers clustered at the bar but upon further inspection, he didn’t see their waitress among them. “Maybe in the kitchen?” A few seconds later she emerged and Lucius put his hand in the air to grab her attention. 

They tidied up quickly and prepared to leave. “I plan to start working on my first draft very soon. May I call on you again, if I should need your help? I might need a proofreader when all is said and done. Of course I’m able to pay you for your time. I don’t expect your emotional labor for nothing.” 

“That won’t be necessary,” Lucius said dismissively, though he was oddly touched by the offer. Most people wouldn’t hesitate to use a resource to their advantage, taking with nothing to give in return. Nygma’s good manners made him more confident in his decision to lend his expertise. “Though if you want to trade for my time…” He considered Ed’s comment during dinner, that he could cook the better steak. Lucius was privately intrigued and wondered how that might taste. But to suggest that, so soon, seemed somehow too forward. He did not want to overstep himself. “We can work something out at a future date,” he finished, banal. 

They stepped out together into the late afternoon air. “Have to get a taxi,” Lucius muttered, glancing up the street. 

“If you’re going back to Wayne Enterprises, I could give you a lift,” Ed suggested. “It’s really no trouble.” 

“Thank you but I won’t impose. Besides I have a few stops I need to make and a cab is the better option.” He turned to Ed, sizing him up briefly and extended his hand. “Good luck with your research, Mr. Nygma,” he said. “I hope it all goes well.” 

Ed smiled faintly and shook his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Fox. I’m sure you’ll be the first to know in any case.” 

Lucius released him and went on his way. His interest in Edward Nygma was starting to take root. He would follow this fascinating specimen down a new path.


	4. The Scent of Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed searches for concrete proof of Lucius' guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update! Sorry for the delay, real life continues to be as demanding as ever. If you're still sticking with this story, I sincerely appreciate it. I got a lot of fun ideas while I was writing this chapter, for how the story might progress. I've changed tags from Something of a Slow Burn to Definite Slow Burn so that should tell you something. Let me know how you feel in the comments and enjoy the newest addition to Gentlemen Killers.

Ed was almost certain he’d found his man. He only had to prove it. 

Lunch with Lucius Fox had been an eye opening encounter. He was not merely a skilled engineer and analyst but also a man of intrigue and idealism. He hadn’t known exactly what to expect but hearing the man espouse the precious status of human life while suspecting him of a merciless poisoning was an interesting experience. Ed hadn’t had such a memorable conversation in quite some time and, as was his pattern, he decided to throw all of his curiosity into this new target that was Lucius Fox. 

He would perform the typical background check in time. Before then, he had evidence to analyze. 

After he had bested Fox in the game of riddles, he’d graciously allowed him to leave the tip only so that Ed could swipe it when the man wasn’t looking and replace it with his own money. He reasoned that if Fox had committed the hit and been paid for it, he wouldn’t deposit the money into any personal account. A random appearance of a large sum would leave an electronic trail. He’d likely be walking around with the money. _Unless he stashed it. Another possibility,_ he thought with his mind racing. _With a high probability. _

But for the time, he would follow the lead he had. 

Lucius has left behind a crisp fifty dollar bill, tipping approximately 41.94% on a $120 bill. The service had been hardly worth all that but he took note of the quiet display of Fox’s polite etiquette. Privately, he wondered if the professor had registered his own early arrival, an attempt to atone for rudely barging into class mid-lecture. 

But the money held his attention now. At his desk, he turned his lamps onto the dollar bill, laid flat across the surfacetop and he brushed his prints brush across the paper, hoping to activate the specialized fingerprint powder he’d blown across it. After a few seconds, the circular whorls of prints appeared. He registered his own immediately - as recognizable to him as his own reflection - and another set that belonged to Fox. All employees of the GCPD were finger-printed; it had taken little effort to find Lucius’ and commit them to memory. Excluding the two of them, there was only one other set of fingerprints and he only had to survey the folder at his side to identify them. 

Maria Mercedes Mooney smirked up at him from her mugshot. He'd received her file from one of his other GCPD contacts, choosing to go a different route than utilizing Ecco. Mooney had a long rap sheet of only circumstantial evidence. She was the accessory to many crimes but had yet to do any significant time on any crime of her own. He carefully surveyed her fingerprints and tried to piece it together. His working theory: the money was laundered through Fish's club, made pristine, and then handed over in payment for services rendered. It was circumstantial, yes but how else to explain currency clean of all but two sets of fingerprints?

He would have to follow up on this lead. 

His next reasonable course of action became clear. He would shadow Lucius and see if the man showed his hand. It wouldn't be the first time he stalked and followed an object of his interest. His skills of observation could not be overlooked and he could be patient when he wanted to be. It took no special skill to memorize someone's routine well enough to lay a trap for them. 

It was Friday. He'd begin his surveillance of Lucius Fox bright and early Monday morning. 

***

Lucius lived in a high rise building in Midtown Gotham, an approximately 30 minute drive between his and Ed's rented apartment in South Village. The building was posh without being lavish. In fact, it was decidedly less grand than Ed expected a salary from Wayne Enterprises could pay for. Obviously, Mr. Fox chose to live modestly. He wondered if that was a choice borne of circumstance or moral inclinations. He’d try to slip it into conversation in future talks with Lucius.

He took the liberty of renting a car and parked it down the street from Lucius’ home, in sight of the building’s entrance and he waited. He imagined that if his line of thinking was correct, he’d be in for a wait. It did not seem likely that the killer would engage another target so swiftly after dispatching Travers. More than likely, the killer would retreat, blend back into whatever life he crafted to hide himself. At least that’s what Ed would have done if he was in such a position. Though he was unlikely to catch the man up to something nefarious, he’d surveil him all the same. 

Fox was precise. He left his building early Monday morning to arrive at Wayne Enterprises where he spent the entire day. He left to retrieve lunch from a nearby diner but mostly, he kept himself holed up inside. He left the building at six in the evening and returned home where he stayed for the rest of the night. The next day, Lucius went to the gym after work, a habit he repeated on Thursdays. On Wednesdays, he taught at Gotham University where he stayed late into the evening. The first Friday he tailed him, Fox took dinner at Adeline’s where he was indeed a regular and favored customer. The following Friday found the man at the Gotham Museum where he stayed for a decent amount of time before he returned for home. 

There was very little that appeared out of place in Fox’s daily routine. Anyone else would have been thrown off the scent and even though Ed did feel the nagging sense of doubt, he couldn’t put aside his own gut feeling. He’d pursue his current lead to its end before he switched targets. 

The second Saturday on Lucius’ trail, he followed the man to Gotham’s Upper East Side, to a lavish brownstone with vines of ivy creeping up its red brick facade. Parked a fair distance down the block, Ed carefully observed as Lucius climbed the front steps and rang the house’s doorbell. The door would open and reveal a beautiful woman, the same complexion as Lucius with long expertly curled hair and lips painted a deep shade of purple. The woman smiled broadly and immediately pulled Lucius into a hug, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Then she was stepping inside with Lucius following and shutting the door behind him. 

Well, that was a surprise. While he sat in the car, Ed took out his phone and Googled the address. A little bit of searching revealed Lucius owned the house but didn’t lend anything to the identity of the woman. He couldn’t be married - he wore no wedding band and lived in a completely different neighborhood. _A girlfriend perhaps? Maybe a relative?_

Nearly an hour passed before the door opened again. Ed, expecting to see Lucius, was somewhat dismayed by the appearance of a child, a girl of maybe seven, launching herself off the doorstep and down the short flight of stairs. The girl had the same complexion as Lucius and the house’s lady resident. She was dressed in jeans and a grey NASA t-shirt, with white light-up sneakers and accessorized with a red cape tied around her neck and a thin band of fabric used as a mask. Ed couldn’t help but grin at the child’s fashion sense. Her hair was in a mass of braids and decorated with black and pink hair clips. He watched as Lucius and the woman descended the stairs together, arm in arm. She bent down and kissed and hugged the child before doing the same for Lucius. Then she moved to her car waiting in the driveway while Lucius and the little girl moved to the curb to climb into his car. He made sure the girl was properly buckled in before he started the car and pulled away from the curb. Once the space was clear, the woman backed out of her driveway, turned into the street, and started in the opposite direction. 

This could be ample time to search Lucius’ apartment but, he reasoned, it was still early in his project and he had no way of knowing how much time he’d have before Lucius returned home. To be caught trespassing would be disastrous and he didn’t intend to wreck his plans before he’d even laid them properly. And the question of this family pulled at Ed. He would make his way into Lucius’ home in due time. For now, he’d keep shadowing the man. 

He followed Lucius and his passenger to the Gotham Center of Science and Aeronautics and parked several rows away from them. He didn’t intend to be left waiting this time. He let Lucius and the girl enter the building before following at a brisk stride. He would find them but he couldn’t lurk too closely. 

He paid for an admissions ticket and wandered in. The crowds were thick with kids and their parents there to see the newly installed interactive solar system displays. Ed was thankful for his height as he scanned the top of the crowd. He spotted Lucius and began shifting through the crowd, following after him while maintaining a cautious distance. As the crowd thickened, Lucius lifted up the girl and held her at his waist, so she could see the exhibits he pointed out to her. Ed was intrigued by the girl’s enthusiasm and cheerfulness. He couldn’t profess to much experience with children but he found them interesting, sometimes amusing. 

He followed them around for a good time before he felt a flash of impulse and decided to approach his targets. He pinned them down in the constellation exhibit - it was a series of interconnected, darkened tunnels, where the stars and constellations had been painted in glow in the dark green on the inside. Everything white glowed with a black light effect, contrasting against the darkness of the environment. He found it to be a pleasing aesthetic. The interior was quiet, all noise from the outside muffled. He could hear a few hushed murmurs and the soft sound of footsteps. There were a few other people wandering about inside with them. 

Ed wandered close and, feigning surprise, called out, "Mr. Fox?"

Lucius looked over quickly and seemed to perk up at the sight of him. "Mr. Nygma. What a place to run into you." 

"I might say the same," Ed commented with a smile as he approached. "And just who is your lovely companion?" 

"This is my niece," Lucius said, putting his hand on the child's shoulder, finally gaining her attention. 

She spun around and tilted her head back to take in Ed's full height. Then she smiled, a gleaming slash in the dark, and stuck out her hand to wave at him. "Hello!" she chirped brightly. "I'm Tatiana Avery Fox!"

He chuckled a little and then gave a dramatic bow at the waist. "A pleasure to meet you, little Miss Fox. I'm Edward Nygma."

"Nygma," she repeated and for some reason her expression grew mischievous. "Do you want to hear a joke? I just thought it up." 

"I _absolutely_ do," he answered, shooting a glance at Lucius over Tatiana's head. The older Fox had the long worn look of someone well used to such hijinks. "I love jokes."

"What do _you_ call the part of your brain that controls emotions?"

He knew the correct answer was the amygdala, of course, and suspected the joke answer she'd give. All the same, he answered, "I don't know." 

Tatiana was already giggling when she burst out with the answer, "The _a-Nygmala!_" before promptly dissolving into a fit of laughter. 

Ed snorted at her effervescence while Lucius lightly rolled his eyes. "You’ll regret that encouragement," he warned. "She’s just learned about homophones and homonyms in school so she’s training herself in the art of punnery." 

"That is precisely the type of behavior I’m likely to encourage in kids," he said to Lucius. To Tatiana, he asked, "Do you want to hear one of mine?"

Tatiana gasped loudly and pressed her hands together. "Yes, please!"

He cleared his throat and gestured dramatically when he spoke. "Who watches over the gods Thor and Loki and keeps them safe from harm?"

Tatiana's eyes went wide then immediately narrowed as she made a face of concentration. He let her ponder for about half a minute before he asked, "Do you give up?"

"_No!_ I never give up," she stated. "I just need to think about it some more." She turned with a flourish, throwing her cape over her shoulder. "I'm going to go look at more constellations while I figure it out," she declared before moving to a new space to explore. 

"Stay where I can see you!" Lucius cautioned. 

"Okay!" the child agreed before promptly turning down a dark hallway, out of sight. 

Ed chuckled while Lucius sighed lightly and made to follow her trail. Ed fell into step beside him. "Your niece is quite the little character. Is she cosplaying as a superhero comedian?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Mr. Nygma. She tends to cycle through a host of different passions. Not too long ago, she was into archaeology and wanted to read everything about fossils. This month her interest is space and celestial bodies."

Ed was impressed. "Do kids have that much focus? I confess to not having much exposure to them."

"This one does," Lucius said firmly. "I'm sure you were a bright child yourself so you know it's not impossible."

"Oh, certainly but I just figured I was the exception, not the rule."

Lucius grinned and Ed found himself watching the other man, using the cover of darkness to focus on his face. Though the stars offered little in the way of illumination, he could still see and admire the line of Lucius’ jaw. 

"Well, Tati's almost nine and her imagination is an exceptional thing. She adores costumes and pretending."

"Is that so? Perhaps you have an actress in the making."

"Perhaps. Though she has great potential for something a bit more academic. Nothing against the entertainment industry, I just think the world would benefit from a few more scientists."

_Of course he’d think so,_ Ed mused with a smile. "And which direction does your sister lean?"

"She...doesn’t really have a preference, to be honest. One moment, please." Lucius paused in his walk and tilted his head back before delivering a short three-note whistle. A shrill bleat sounded somewhere behind them in the dark and they changed directions to locate its source. A few moments of silence then Lucius asked, "How did you know her parent was my sister?"

_Oops._ He'd let his tongue slip. Ed took a breath, using the time to regulate his voice with a casual air. "Just took a guess, really. If her father was your brother, I don’t see why the two of you wouldn’t take her out together. Also, women are generally the primary caretakers of children. It's Saturday so I assumed she’d send her daughter with you while she took care of -" He waved his hand carelessly. "Whatever beauty duties women are beholden to."

"A bit sexist, Mr. Nygma," Lucius chastised. "To assume a woman's errands would be primarily about her appearance."

He tapped the corner of his glasses and gave the other man a scathing look. "My statement was based on stats, not stereotype, Mr. Fox. It's a fact that women spend more time and money on their appearances than we of the rougher sex. But more to the point, am I wrong?"

Lucius laughed a little while he shook his head. "You're not wrong. But are you always this argumentative?"

"Only when I'm right, which I often am," he shot back. "And only when I have a worthy opponent."

Lucius stopped walking and when Ed glanced back at him, he was watching him with a mild expression. "I don't really see you as my opponent," he said softly.

Was that intended as praise or provocation? As an insult, it'd vex him to no end to think Lucius didn't view him as a justified rival. As a compliment though, he felt a strange sense of elation at the idea of being _more_. He was on the verge of asking just how did Lucius see him when the sound of rapid footsteps came at them with Tatiana's excited cry. "Uncle Lucius, Mr. Nygma!"

She ran at them and crashed into Lucius' side and he quickly put his arm around her shoulders to steady her. Hugging Lucius at his waist, she looked up at Ed with a gleaming smile. "I figured it out! Who watches over Thor and Loki? Their _Asgardian_ angel!"

He grinned and gave her a thumbs up. "You got it, clever girl."

She detached from Lucius and went running off, whooping in triumph. 

"What a persistent child," Ed commented. 

"You heard what she said. She never gives up."

They followed the blinking lights on Tatiana's sneakers to the exit of the star hall. She spun around, catching her first sight of him in clear lighting and gaped at the size of him. "You're taller than Uncle Lucius! Do you play basketball?"

Ed smiled lightly. "Unfortunately not, little Fox. I prefer books over basketball."

"I do too," she quickly agreed. "Do you know I read all seven Harry Potter books in two months?"

"That's very impressive," he complimented. "And to what House do you belong?"

Her expression was elated at having someone new to share in her interests. Smiling, she took hold of Lucius' hand in her right and with her left grabbed hold of Ed. Then she began pulling them in the direction where food was being sold. The two she dragged behind her exchanged a look of shared amusement.

"I’m a combination Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff," she said conversationally as they walked. "Probably 60/40. If I went to Hogwarts, I’d be a serious hatstall. Uncle Lucius is the same. My mama is a Gryffindor for sure." The look she threw over her shoulder at Ed was suddenly critical. "You're wearing an awful lot of green." 

Lucius laughed at the suspicion in her tone. Ed merely smiled patiently. "I am. It's my favorite color. And before you ask, yes, I'm a Slytherin."

Tatiana's eyes went wide. "But Slytherins are the bad guys!"

"Yes, most of the bad guys are from Slytherin but the attributes of the house itself aren't bad in and of themselves. Being cunning and ambitious can be just as valued as being brave or intelligent or hard-working. As clever as you are, I'm sure you have an ambition or two of your own you want to accomplish."

Her mouth opened in surprise understanding of this new perspective. "I do!" She stretched out her t-shirt to draw attention to its logo. "I want to work at NASA one day like Mae Jemison. I did a report on her for Black History Month and I got 100%."

"Not surprising. So you know first-hand how such a big goal requires a great deal of ambition."

She nodded sagely. "I see you're right." 

They had reached the eating area when Tatiana released them to race and claim a table. She proceeded to climb into a chair and take off a backpack that had been hidden under her cape. 

"Don't go overboard," Lucius said as he took the chair next to hers. "You still have to eat actual food."

"Okay," she agreed happily. She unzipped her bag, reached in, and set something in front of Lucius. It was a foil wrapped Hershey's Kiss. She went to put one in front of Ed but drew back at the last second. "You're not allergic to chocolate, are you?" 

"No, I'm sure I'm not," he replied, taking the last chair. 

"Good," she said and handed over the chocolate. "In first grade there was a boy in my class that didn't know he was allergic to chocolate and he ate some at a class party and then he had to go to the hospital! He got a bad rash and went into some kind of shock. Ana...anapha…"

"Anaphylactic," Ed and Lucius finished for her in unison. 

"Jinx!" she cried out. "You _both_ owe me a soda!" Laughing, she unwrapped her own Kiss and popped it into her mouth. "You're very smart," she said to Ed as she chewed. "Are you sure you're not a Ravenclaw?"

He smiled as he unwrapped his chocolate. "I'm sure." 

"Uncle Lucius is very smart, too," she said matter of factly. "The smartest in the whole city, maybe the world."

"Such high praise!" he commented, shooting Lucius a look. The other man looked somewhat sheepish. "And what makes you say that, little Fox?"

"Because he builds all sorts of things at his job at Wayne Enterprises, big machines like robots and rockets! And he watches _Jeopardy!_ every night and he always gets all the questions right!" 

"Okay, Tatiana," Lucius intervened. "You don't have to keep bragging about me. Tell me what you want to eat."

She quickly sat up straight. "Can _I_ get the food? Please, Uncle Lucius?"

"Are you able to carry it by yourself?"

"Yes, I can do it," she assured him confidently. 

"Okay." He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and held out a twenty dollar bill to her. "Grab one of those chicken salads they have over there for me, please. And make sure you get the right change."

She nodded and looked at Ed. "What would you like, Mr. Nygma?"

"Nothing for me, thank you. I've already eaten."

After she'd scurried away to choose her meal, Ed turned to Lucius and said, "I'll be departing soon. I don't want to intrude on any more of your family time."

"You haven't been intruding at all," Lucius quickly assured. "I know Tatiana's enjoying having a new person to converse with."

"The pair of you are cute. She's lucky to have such an attentive uncle."

"Thank you," Lucius responded. He turned to scan the crowd near the food counter, locating Tatiana as she wove through the crowd of people picking their food off the shelves. 

"You mentioned your sister," Ed spoke up, watching him. "But what of the girl's father?"

He didn't imagine what he saw: the quick spasmodic downturn of Lucius' mouth. But when he met his gaze, the man was as calm and collected as always. "He's not involved," Lucius answered curtly. 

"Ah. A shame."

"So it is." Lucius cleared his throat then, in a brighter tone, asked, "How goes your project, Mr. Nygma?"

"Oh, quite well," he answered flippantly. In actuality, he hadn’t even considered his subject matter and made a mental note to cobble together a first draft so that he would have something to show Lucius when he asked. "It's still a bit rough and I need to sharpen up the thesis a bit." 

"How will you do that?"

"It requires gaining the perspective of the killer." He was just making stuff up on the fly and decided to run with it. "I've worked murder cases for the GCPD. So have you. Our jobs called on us to track the motivations and behavior of criminals. We had to predict their movements and actions but that is not the same as understanding them and what compels them. It’s just analysis."

Lucius leaned forward, his dark eyes searching out Ed's. "You're suggesting…. what, empathy for murderers and madmen?" 

"I want to know why they do what they do. Everyone has a reason for the things they do. Why should the madman's reason be denigrated while someone else's may be exalted?" He pushed his glasses up on his nose and continued. "I posit that morality forces the idea of good vs. evil when no such distinction exists. It all depends heavily on a matter of perspective and who is handing down the judgement." 

There was a look of interest in Lucius' eye. He smiled wryly and said, "That's a very Slytherin mentality you have there."

Ed smiled back. "I can only be what I am."

"I think it'd be very interesting to pick your brain on certain matters of philosophy."

"You mean like debating the merits of teleology vs. deontology?" he asked, practically preening at the opportunity to show off.

"Yes, precisely," Lucius exclaimed with a laugh. "Though I’d imagine you’d lean more towards the utilitarian school of thought over Kant’s school of ethics." 

"Because Kantian theory is simplistic and doesn’t properly convey the nuances and circumstances of society!"

"You're not wrong," Lucius responded. "Once again," he added. He sat back in his chair with a contented expression and though his eyes wandered, his words were directed at Ed. "I rather like listening to you speak."

The admission stunned him a little, to be honest. More often than not, the reaction to him speaking would be met with exasperation or impatience. Lucius had expressed neither of those emotions and Ed was grateful for their similar mindsets. How refreshing to be met with understanding instead of a confused stare! The nagging sense of doubt occasionally poked the back of his mind. It was hard to reconcile the idea of a hardened killer with the urbane man that sat before him. More than once, he nearly convinced himself his assumptions were far off the mark. Each time, he only had to remember that Lucius was foxy enough to keep his nefarious deeds under wrap. He wasn’t giving up and couldn’t let himself be enticed by vivified conversation. 

Tatiana came walking up, a tray held firmly between her two little hands. While Lucius leaned forward to relieve her of her burden, Ed reached out and pulled her chair away from the table so that she could sit more easily. While he did this, his eyes caught a woman in the background, sitting a few tables away with her children. She was looking towards their table with an expression of concern and faint disgust. Ed couldn’t fathom why until Tatiana sat, happily chattering away to Lucius, when it dawned on him the woman probably thought that he and Lucius were a couple and the three of them formed a family unit. It was a unexpectedly pleasant fantasy; if not for Tatiana’s presence, he would _really_ give the woman something to stare at. But he ignored his impulse to taunt strangers; he wasn’t willing to allow some bigoted comment to mar the Foxes’ day.

He was about to make his exit when Tatiana turned to him excitedly. "I got you this," she said, placing her purchase in front of him. "I know you said you already ate so here’s dessert!"

She’d gotten him a medium cup of green jello.

Ed smiled at her. "You are the kindest of souls, Miss Tatiana. You’re as considerate as your uncle." 

She giggled and covered her eyes, bashful over his praise. "Uncle Lucius says people should practice random acts of kindness. That it’ll make the world a better place."

Ed’s eyes found Lucius and he said, "Perhaps it does." 

He consumed his jello quickly and parted ways soon after. Driving away, he realized just how much he’d enjoyed spending time with Lucius and little Tatiana. It had been nice but if he let himself, he’d get distracted from his primary goal - proving that Lucius was not as virtuous as he appeared to be. He had to focus on his initial task. 

His surveillance of Lucius Fox continued.

Lucius’ little outings with his niece seemed to be a standing appointment. So after two more weeks when he went to collect her for some new adventure, Ed headed towards Lucius’ home with the intent to inspect the man’s living quarters. But he’d have to be cautious about this. 

For someone in Lucius’ line of work, comprehensive security was a given and Wayne Tech would have no shortage of gadgets and gizmos meant for protection and defense. He had to hope that Lucius wouldn’t guard his personal life quite so fiercely but he’d be ready if that was the case. He had a new device of his own to test. 

He made his way to Lucius’ building, waiting patiently for the chance to slip inside behind some exiting resident. He traveled downstairs to the basement and found the building’s main circuitry box to which he fixed his device, an unassuming two inch black rectangle with a display screen to show the ticking down of four minutes. He stuck it to the side, out of sight, then started back up, choosing to take the stairs over the elevator.

His invention was a modified version of an electromagnetic pulse device. Its purpose was to emit a burst of magnetic energy and disrupt the electrical processes of its target machine. Ed had made it powerful enough to disable the entire building’s electrical grid for as long as he needed to search Lucius’ apartment. He reasoned that if the apartment was defended by some Wayne Tech, his own invention would be enough to render any security system useless. 

By the time he reached the fourth floor, his EMP had a minute before it would trigger. Ed exited the stairwell next to the elevator, slipped on a pair of latex gloves, and pressed the button to summon it. When the elevator door opened on his floor, he held it until his EMP burst kicked in and all the lights in the hallway went out. The elevator door slid shut but stayed stationary just as he intended. He didn’t favor trapping some unsuspecting soul on the elevator while he went about his business. He was wearing his working glasses, the only difference between them and his everyday ones was the tiny light he’d stuck to one corner of the left lens. He used that light now to guide himself to the door of apartment 4B and started going to work on the lock, making sure to keep his movement precise so as not to leave any evidence of his tampering. 

He broke his way in quickly and switched off his eyeglass light as it was more than easy to see inside the apartment. He stepped into an apartment with hardwood floors and at least half of an open concept. To his right was the kitchen, the fridge, sink, and stove lined up in an L shape along the wall. He walked into this space, lightly dragging his fingertips over the polished marble countertops. A replica of a melting clock ticked and dripped above the fridge which Ed looked inside. Lucius' fridge was shamefully scant with just the condiments on the door, a bottle of wine, a six pack of beer, and a few Tupperware containers of what he assumed were leftovers. The freezer was more occupied with two pints of ice cream - dulce de leche and cookies and cream - a box of popscicles, some frozen vegetables and an ice tray where the molds were in the shape of chess pieces. 

He shut the freezer door, inspecting a picture stuck to the door with a fridge magnet shaped like a fleur de lis. The picture was of a dachshund standing atop a wooden tricycle with the caption reading; DOXYCYCLINE. Ed snorted at the pun; it was precisely the type of science joke that someone like Lucius might appreciate. Below that, on the door of the fridge, was a calendar with a few dates written in Lucius’ tight, tiny handwriting. Most of the dates pertained to his appointments with Tatiana. Movies one week, a trip to the library a fortnite after that, followed by a visit to a skate park. He flipped a page back and saw his name, penciled in on the day of their first meetup. _Lunch w/ E.Nygma 2;00 PM._ It gratified him, to see this small indication of his occupation of Lucius’ thoughts. 

He turned to the the table behind him. It was long enough to sit three side by side and atop it was a stack of mail that he briefly rifled through and an empty package from SprezzaBox, a subscription company that sent out carefully curated boxes of men’s fashion accessories monthly. 

The kitchen and living room occupied the same open space, though a closet separated the two. He peeked inside it briefly and while doing so, heard the soft creak of a door opening behind him. His hand instinctively went for the knife he kept at his belt though the last thing he needed was to commit a murder in Lucius’ residence. He did not have the time or materials to deal with the clean up. But what came out of the bedroom was not a threat but a treat - a black cat, small and skinny, somewhere between infancy and adulthood. 

"Well, hello," he said softly. He bent down and clicked his tongue to summon the animal. It trotted over immediately and began winding its way between his legs. Then it stopped, sat itself on his shoes, and looked up, meowing plaintively. Ed was startled by its gaze - milky white and almost definitely sightless. He tested this by waving a finger from side to side in front of the cat’s face. Its gaze did not track, confirming its blindness. The cat moved from his shoes, curiously sniffing at his pant leg before it stretched its paw out and hooked him. It climbed him in three quick bounds, pausing on his arm, before making its perch on his shoulder. He smiled lightly as the cat sniffed him more insistently around the side of his face and then reached out one paw to tentatively pat him on the face a few times. He suspected what the creature might be up to. Without sight, it had to rely more heavily on its sense of smell and he surely didn’t smell like Lucius. Its little petting had probably been in search of the texture of Lucius’ beard. Ed scratched behind its ears and the cat quickly fell to purring, more than willing to accept this intruder as long as he brought scritches with him. He reached out to where a golden tag hung from the cat’s black leather collar. On one side it read: _His Royal Highness, King T’Challa._ On the back it said: _If lost, please return to Tatiana Fox_, followed by contact information. 

Ed grinned and scratched T’Challa more insistently. "Well, Your Majesty, wanna tell me where your daddy keeps his secrets?"

The purring cat merely lifted his head, wanting to be scratched under his chin, revealing a white patch of fur on his belly. Ed acquiesced and crossed into the living room. The low coffee table immediately caught his eye. It was festively colored and as he stood over it, he realized why. The tabletop had been hand painted with the periodic table of elements. On top were two coasters, painted to look like floppy disks. He chuckled at Lucius’ delightful style. He took a moment to sit on the mustard yellow couch and imagine his quarry’s perspective. T’Challa climbed down off his shoulder and immediately curled up on the couch with a yawn.

In front of him was a 32 inch screen TV perched on a stand, the different sections of which held various knickkacks. His eye was drawn to a black and white portrait of a man and woman, barely out of their teens, standing together. Their clothes and hairstyles suggested a bygone era. He stood and reached for the picture, gently disengaging it from its frame to peek at the back. In faded ink, he read _March 25, 1970 Lionel Booker Fox & Tallulah Adelaide Grace_. He inspected the faces of Lucius’ parents; his father seemed serious and dignified, his mother, though composed, looked like she was hiding a secret behind her smile. He replaced the photo, set it back in its place, and continued his exploration.

To the left of the room was a window without curtains, a small desk underneath it and a row of plants lined up along the sill and along the wall on either side of the window. On it was a laptop, stacks of paper, a mini-scanner, and a letter opener, all lined up meticulously. He glanced at the plants along the windowsill. They were a varied bunch, eight pots in all, each sprouting some different flora. The one in the center was an impressive plant, about a foot tall, with lavender, tubular blooms. He sniffed it cautiously and jerked back at its unpleasant scent. There was a small, folded card on the front of flowerpot and he spread it open to read the handwritten message inside. 

_Lucius - This lovely boy is a foxglove plant. Keep him well watered with lots of sun and make sure the King keeps his distance as this boy is VERY toxic when consumed. Sing to him and he’ll grow big and beautiful!_ It was signed with the initials: _I.P.P._

Lucius was obviously friends with a very excitable botanist. For every plant, there was a note attached detailing its name, primary mode of care, and warnings alike, all signed with the same trio of curling letters. He would consider figuring out the plant enthusiast’s identity but for now, he’d stay focused on Lucius. 

He crossed the living room and entered through the door to his immediate right. He knew instantly that this was Lucius’ bedroom. There was a window that looked out onto a small patio and two doors on opposite ends of the room. The walls were a muted champagne color. The bed, king sized and expertly made, was covered with a royal blue down comforter. He had to sincerely resist the urge to lay down and inhale the scents from the cover and pillows. Another time, he promised himself. Along the walls were Lucius’ chest of drawers and a tall bookcase. There were squat bedside tables on either side of the bed. 

So Ed got to snooping. He peeked under the mattress and under the bedframe and even behind the headboard, coming up with nothing. He opened Lucius’ drawers and seeing how everything was carefully folded and organized, he merely pressed down on the clothes, expecting to feel the hard pressure of something that didn’t belong. Nothing there. He even pulled out the drawers and carefully ran his hands over the inside of the dresser, still nothing. He moved to Lucius’ bookcase and took a moment to examine it. He saw the names of many prominent Black authors and all of Lucius’ works were alphabetized; Angelou, Baldwin, Butler, Carmichael, Coates, Davis, Dumas. He gently tipped back a few books at a time, trying to see if moving any one triggered some kind of response or if they were being used to conceal something. He’d utilized a similar method of defense in the past. But to his disappointment, nothing revealed itself. He even ran his fingers along the back of the bookcase, in the slim hope that it was hiding some secret compartment behind it. No such luck. 

The first door he opened was a small walk-in closet. Lucius’ clothes were hung up in neat rows, his shoes lined up in even rows under them. He slid the clothes on their hangers to the side to see if anything was hidden behind them. He even shook the shoes to see if there was anything in them. Near the back of the closet, he spied an instrument case. He knelt and dragged it within reach, unzipped the case and revealed a gleaming violin. It was obviously aged, worn down in certain places, but clearly cared for. He poked at the edges of the case in search of a hidden compartment but there was none to speak of. Feeling slightly irritated, he replaced the violin and let his eyes drift around the space. Lucius’ wardrobe was colorful and extended. He checked the tags of a few suits and found a variety of luxury brands, Tom Ford, Hugo Boss, Prada, Balenciaga. He was amused and appreciative of Lucius’ sophisticated fashion tastes. 

He exited the closet and crossed the room to the second door, revealing a bathroom. The walls were painted blue with gold trim, the sink, tub, and toilet shining white. He opened the medicine cabinet and marveled at its order. A wide variety of lotions, colognes, hair products, and oils all lined up by size with the labels facing outwards. He chose a scent at random, a handsome golden bottle with an emblem of the sun and the name AMOUAGE printed on its front. A quick search on his phone told him that the little 100ml bottle cost $350. _What a dandy you are, Lucius!_ he thought as he uncapped the bottle and sniffed curiously. It was a rich, pleasant aroma. Lucius hadn't worn it around him yet but he found himself wishing he would. Now he could see where that big Wayne salary was going to. He replaced the cologne and continued his search. 

He thought he might have struck gold when he checked under the sink and found a first aid kit. Opening it revealed a row of chemical bottles but a glance at their labels told him they were harmless agents, nothing like the deadly toxin used to kill Travers. Feeling disappointed, he replaced the kit and exited the bathroom. 

He rifled through the bedside drawers, finding little of note. There were a few notebooks, some letters, a handful of wrapped candies and… Ed’s eyebrow arched in interest at the discovery of a box of Skyn brand condoms and a bottle of caramel flavored lube. He looked inside the box and saw that eleven remained of a twelve count and the lube was also near full. He nibbled his bottom lip as his mind flooded with imaginings of Lucius, spread out on this very bed, enjoying coitus with some faceless partner and he burned with envy. Of course he had no right to Lucius’ affections but he could not think of a single man in Gotham more suited to be Lucius’ match. 

And it had to be a man for even though he didn’t have solid proof, he was beginning to doubt that Lucius held any romantic inclination towards the fairer sex. His grooming and dressing habits notwithstanding, Ed had not come across any indication of female company, no clothing or product that a female guest would need for an overnight visit. It was circumstantial but still, he held fast to his flimsy evidence. 

He replaced the items in their drawer and exited Lucius’ bedroom. T’Challa was playing in the living room, batting around little toys that contained bells or squeaks so the blind feline could hunt them by sound. Though Ed smiled as he watched the cat, he felt frustrated. A glance at his watch told him thirty five minutes had elapsed since he’d entered the apartment. He’d have twenty five more before his EMP powered down and the building’s electricity returned. He needed to hurry now. 

He checked the hall closet, searching jacket pockets, moving suitcases and the like to get to any hidden section he could. He checked that the floorboards had not been loosed at all. He pressed the back wall to make sure it was in one piece and not concealing anything. No luck. He moved through Lucius’ bedroom, the bathroom, and into the connecting guest room. This room was almost entirely bare. There was a desk with scraps of metal and machinery strewn about with a drawing of some schematics taped to the wall. This was the only part of the house that was not orderly and in line. He pulled out the desk drawers, checking for false bottoms, but nothing revealed itself. The bed was bare with just a sheet stretched over the mattress. The small dresser was empty except for the bottom drawer where a handful of children’s clothes were folded, obviously in anticipation of Tatiana spending the night. There was nothing hidden among the clothes and his inspection of the inside yielded no result. 

Gritting his teeth, he moved back into the kitchen and began looking through the cabinets, under the sink, shaking the damn cereal boxes, and all he got was a persistent nothing. He banged the cabinet door shut in his frustration and T’Challa gave an indignant meow. Ed walked over to calm the cat and let his thoughts wander while he stroked the creature. Where would Lucius hide his weapon of choice? If not in his home then the next logical place would be Wayne Enterprises but that seemed unlikely. The building of a megacorporation was bound to have cameras, locks, invoices detailing how much of something they had. Even though Lucius was a senior executive that didn’t mean he was above all scrutiny. In fact, knowing the man as he did, he seemed likely to want to keep separate the legal and illegal dealings of his professional life. He had to think like Lucius - what absolutely ridiculous place would no one think to look?

His eyes were drawn to the windowsill, to the sitting plants. He got up from soothing T’Challa and made his way to the window. He withdrew one of his lockpicks and stabbed it into the soil of the foxglove plant. It slid through easily without obstruction. He stabbed down three more times around the plant, finding nothing. He switched to the pot second to the end which appeared to be housing mushrooms and did the same. The second time he stabbed down, the end of his lockpick hit something hard. He pushed down, feeling the same hard resistance. He poked one finger in and felt the surface of something unyielding. His heartbeat sped up and he reached for the mushroom cap, prepared to pull it from the soil. It did not give immediately and when he pulled harder, he realized why. 

This mushroom cap was a fake. Where the others were soft and spongy, this was decidedly harder. And more importantly, when he pulled it up from the earth, a small chemical bottle came with it, the cap glued to the top of the bottle. Ed brought it up to eye level, shaking the bottle. There was white powder inside and on the underside of the bottle was a tiny label that read RICIN.

_I’ve_ got _you, you crafty Fox,_ Ed thought in triumph. 

In five minutes, he’d unearthed half a dozen bottles of toxins with varying lethality: botulinum, amatoxin, strychnine, cyanide, and the kicker, saxitocin. He was practically vibrating with glee at being proven right. And with ten minutes to spare. He snapped pictures of the chemicals and then carefully reburied them, smoothing the dirt to hide his intervention. He’d gotten what he came for; there was no longer any reason to linger. He ignored his desire to leave some clue, some evidence of his trespass. There’d be time for that later, once he figured out the next step in this game. 

Before leaving, he gave T’Challa an appreciative pet. "I’ll be seeing you soon, Your Highness." 

The cat meowed and nibbled on his fingers. 

Ed let himself out, traveled to the basement to retrieve his device, and exited the building. While he drove from the scene of the break-in, he couldn’t help but let out an ecstatic laugh. Lucius Fox certainly was a clever devil but he was cleverer. And he was delighted at the prospect of engaging with Lucius in this game of wits. They were bound to have so much _fun._


	5. The Predator's Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius' turns his attention to learning about Ed and discovers a skeleton from his past. Despite this, the two continue to spend time together and grow closer.

Edward Nygma’s unexpected appearance at the Gotham science center had only served to sharpen Lucius’ focus on him and cause his interest to grow. He was intensely protective of his niece and to see how easily Nygma engaged with her and kept her attention definitely helped his estimation of the man. Their second extended meeting helped to mold the picture of his new acquaintance. At their lunch, he had been chatty and enthusiastic and seemed shy at any perceived compliment. He remembered that when he told Nygma frankly that he did not consider him an enemy and the taller man had gone quiet, perhaps wondering what role Lucius actually considered him for. That had yet to reveal itself. Nygma had seemed calmer, their second meeting, more self assured. He was beginning to take on an intriguing complexity that Lucius found himself drawn to. 

He wanted to know more about him and so he did what any person in his position would do: he started running a background check. He had enough practice in research and computer security to do this himself. He quickly learned Nygma’s address - 805 Grundy Avenue in South Village - the make of his car and his license plate, and a copy of his photo ID from his work at the GCPD. The image was certainly more tame than Lucius was used to. Ed’s hair was combed and lay flat in a kind of schoolboy style, his smile close-lipped and decidedly more subdued than the grinning visage Lucius was beginning to associate with him. Along with his personal information, he found a few grabs from Ed’s professional life. A photo of him as an undergrad at Gotham U, a paper he co-authored in college on recidivism rates and modern standards of imprisonment. He read it with curiosity and was impressed at the end of it. He didn’t know how much of it was Ed’s contribution but it was an enlightening read regardless. 

But, he quickly realized, the scope of his information did not go back more than twelve years. When he tried to search for the birth records of Edward Nygma, nothing came up. That wasn’t too peculiar; his self-appointed jurisdiction was only the city of Gotham. If Ed was born in a different city, which looked like the case, he would not be privvy to those records. He’d have to hire outside help if he wanted further information. He fired off an e-mail to a private investigator he knew, a woman named Jesse, inquiring if she had the time and inclination to continue his search into Edward Nygma. She replied immediately, telling him to send what little info he had, and he did so, willing to leave it in her capable hands. There were other places he could go and sources he could utilize to gather information about Ed Nygma. 

He made his way to the police department and entered the GCPD precinct. It seemed to be a calm day; the occupants of the holding cell were surprisingly docile and the milling cops seemed at ease, moving at their leisure. He scanned the room and spotted Harvey Bullock at the same time the grizzled Irish cop looked up and locked eyes with him. 

"Hey Lucius!" he called loudly. 

Lucius smiled, raising a hand in greeting. "Good morning," he replied. As he approached, Harvey stood up and reached for his hand to shake. 

"How the hell are you, Lucius? What brings you down from that ivory tower to our humble accommodations?’"

"I’m well," he responded. "I was in the neighborhood and I thought I’d stop by. I have something to ask of you."

"Of me? Well, I’m all ears." He sat back down, removed his flask and took a quick gulp. 

Lucius grimaced lightly but beyond that, ignored the lack of professionalism. Worse things were allowed, after all. "I came because you were listed as a reference for an applicant to Wayne Enterprises. A Mr. Ed Nygma. Apparently, he worked here for some time before I did. I’d like your opinion of him as an employee." 

"Ed Nygma?" Harvey blew out a breath as he leaned back in his chair and he laced his fingers across his protruding belly. "Yeah, I remember Ed. Scrawny little geeky lab tech. He musta worked here for three years, maybe four."

"How was he on the job?" 

"Oh, he was a damn good tech. Sharp eyes, extremely well-informed. His work was fine. It was his manner that needed improvement."

"In what way?" 

"He was geeky," Harvey said, by way of explanation. "Over eager and without much respect for personal space. Hold up. Hey Jim," he called out to the passing Captain of the GCPD. "Come here a minute, would ya? Lucius wants to know about Ed Nygma."

Gordon approached, nodding to him in greeting. "Hey Lucius," he said as he shook his hand. "Why’re you interested in Ed Nygma?"

"He’s up for consideration at the R and D department at Wayne Enterprises," Lucius lied easily. "I’m trying to get a sense of him as a worker." 

"Well, Nygma was a brilliant analyst," Jim stated, already starting off more favorably than Harvey. "He had a keen eye for detail and a persistent kind of nature. When it comes to the intricacies of casework, he’s an asset, without a doubt."

"And his nature?" Lucius asked.

"He’s...a bit unusual," Jim conceded. "His brand of humor tended to chaff those around him." 

"How so?" Lucius wondered. 

"Oh man, you’re thinking of that time he freaked out Kringle, right?" Harvey asked while laughing. 

"He covered himself in blood and laid down in the morgue," Jim explained. "And waited for someone to find him. The young woman who did screamed bloody murder and nearly gave everyone in a ten foot radius a heart attack."

"I see," Lucius said softly. It was, perhaps, a mean spirited prank but didn’t seem overly harmful. It sounded just like the type of mischief that might appeal to a man like Ed Nygma. "Anything else I should know?"

Jim made a face of consideration then, "This probably isn't relevant and I'm not pretending to be a psychiatrist but Ed always seemed...I don't know, like he might be on the spectrum or something?"

"Oh?" Lucius replied. He hadn't yet gotten that impression. 

"Yeah. His lack of boundaries, special interests, and hyperfocus all sort of scream autistic to me, high functioning, of course. But Ed never confirmed that and it didn't feel like my place to mention it so." He shrugged carelessly. 

"I see." It wasn't explicitly relevant but it was good to know all the same. He remembered noting Ed’s particular focus the first time they’d met for lunch and thought it wasn’t too outrageous as an idea. Lucius was no stranger to mental disorders; he knew his own adherence to order and tidiness had some obsessive compulsive elements behind it. He wondered if Ed had any requirements to maintain mental calm as he did. 

"Thank you both for your input," he said as he began straightening his coat in preparation to leave. "I believe we can move forward in the hiring process with this information." 

He departed and moved on to Wayne Enterprises to continue his day. Going about his business, he found his thoughts drifting to Ed. He had previously thought of him as a trickster-esque figure and he was assured in knowing he hadn’t been wrong. Truthfully, he found the penchant for tricks and riddles a bit childish but with Ed, the character trait was more endearing. He wore it well and if his persona was a mask, it was a good one. He offset his silliness by being intelligent, charismatic, and well-mannered and Lucius found the mix of him amusing and intriguing. It certainly helped that Ed was devilishly handsome to boot. He was mildly distracted from his work as his thoughts swirled around the man with his grinning visage and dramatic gesticulations. 

Later that night, when he’d been home for a few hours, his phone buzzed with a text. He reached for it with the distant hope that Ed was contacting him. He was disappointed but not by much. It was Jesse, his P.I contact, getting back to him with new information.

_ Got the origin of your guy. Down to meet? _

Jesse kept odd hours. She was as likely to set up an appointment at 4 AM as she was at 4 PM. Lucius had no actual idea when she found the time to sleep. 

_Sure,_ he answered back. 

Seconds later: _Meet you at Dante’s._

Dante’s was a Greek diner in the East End, a real dive. Lucius would never patronize it willingly - he had spied many a roach during his visits - but Jesse was a Gotham girl who loved the dismal little spot. He arrived forty minutes after the invitation to find her, stabbing moodily into a basket of chili cheese fries, while she scrolled on her phone. 

"How you doing, Jesse," he said, as he slid into the booth opposite her.

"Just another day in Paradise, Lucius," she said, looking up long enough to fix him with a sarcastic smile. She was a pale waif of a woman with long, dark hair and a permanent RBF. "But I figure you’d want to hear these results in person." 

"What did you find?" he asked. 

"Well, firstly, _nothing_," she said as she poked into her fries again. "There isn’t a single record of the birth of an Edward Nygma in this entire country." She took a mouthful and chewed in silence for half a minute before continuing. "So, I figure dude must have changed his name at some point, yeah? Nygma - I’ve never heard that as a name before so I figure that’s what got changed. Among people who change their names, the majority picks something starting with the same letter. So I start a search for every Edward N. in the nation."

"And I’m assuming you found something?" he questioned, in a subtle attempt to hurry along to her point. 

"You are right," she declared, jabbing her fork into her meal. "Took some whittling down but I think I pinned it. I got a rap sheet for an Edward Nashton. Well, D.O.B on it’s too old to be your guy so I’m about to write him off until I see he has a son, Edward Nashton the Third. I dug up the kid’s personal file and I’m sure he’s who you’re looking for. Guy went through a real ugly duckling phase, huh?"

She slid across the table a manilla folder that Lucius flipped open. The first sheet of paper had Ed’s GCPD I.D, along with another photo, clearly taken years before. It was a student I.D and a teenaged Ed smiled up at him. He was painfully gawky with hair pomade’d into place, huge glasses that took up half his face and ears that stuck out conspicuously. 

"Don’t be unkind," Lucius chastised her gently as he flipped through the other pages in the photo. He found Ed’s birth certificate and a picture of his childhood home. 

"Fine," Jesse said uncaringly as she took another bite. "But get this; Ed Nashton the II dies rather suddenly in a ‘hunting accident’ and detectives start looking at the son." 

"Why would they do that?" Lucius asked, looking up and meeting Jesse’s eyes. 

"During canvassing, neighbors gave testimony that he was abusing his family. When the detectives went to inform next of kin, Mrs. Nashton had a bruise on her face. The officers document questioning the son and that he didn’t show a hint of sorrow over the death of his dad. They couldn’t find anything to tie the boy to the murder and mom said he was home in bed all day with the flu."

Lucius listened and absorbed all this new information with stoic calm. He definitely hadn’t anticipated discovering such a controversial past. His intent had only been to make sure that Ed wasn’t a danger to him but learning the intimacies of his childhood without permission felt like a violation he hadn’t wanted to commit. But since he couldn’t remove the new knowledge from his head, he could only dig deeper. He checked the dates of the news cases and Ed’s birth certificate and calculated that Ed would have been freshly fifteen at the time of his father’s death. Could a teenager, one as brilliant as Ed Nygma, be guilty of patricide?

And if it was true, that the Nashton patriarch had been abusive to his wife and son, could he really blame Ed for whatever action he took?

It made for an interesting conundrum, one he could only analyze with more time and information. He flipped the folder shut and drew it towards him. "I’ll be taking this with me. It appears that I have some studying to do. I’ll transfer you the usual rate. Thanks for the quickness."

"For you, Lucius," she said, toasting him with her chipped mug of coffee. "Not a problem." 

He returned home with the new folder of information but he didn’t go over it that night. He knew if he started, he’d follow the information down a rabbit hole and be up all night. So he patiently bid his time and when lunch time came around the next day, he holed up in his office at Wayne Enterprises and opened the folder into Edward Nygma’s life. 

It started with Ed Nashton the II. Where the son was lithe and slim, the father was a heavyset scowler. The older Nashton was a career criminal with a rap sheet that was a grocery list of petty crimes: assault, assault and battery, assault with a deadly weapon, drunk and disorderly, public nuisance, public intoxication, public urination, breaking and entering, and theft. The file described an indiscriminate reprobate with neither concern nor affection for others. There was a photo of Mrs. Claudia Nashton in the folder. She was a woman in her forties, with thinning blonde hair and deep bags under brown eyes that, under different circumstances, might have been sweet. There was not any charge for domestic violence but that was not surprising if Mrs. Nashton was the type to defend her abuser. There was a report of an investigation from Child Protection Services but nothing had come from it in the end. 

He examined the paperwork on the case and medical examiner’s notes. Edward Nashton Sr. was killed by a single gunshot to the back of his head. He was out in a popular hunting ground, enjoying the sport as was his past time, when he was killed. None of the other hunters in the area copped to the accident and the murder weapon was of a common variety hunting rifle, too ordinary to trace. Ed Nashton Jr., as vouched for by his mother, was home, some twenty miles away in bed with the flu and had been there all day. The detective’s radars were up because of Ed’s indifferent attitude and the history of abuse in the family but beyond that, there was no evidence to tie the boy to his father’s murder. It was eventually closed, ruled as a tragic accident. Ed Nashton would graduate high school a year early and then two years later, Edward Nygma appeared on the fall roster at Gotham University and his life began anew. 

Interesting. He closed the folder, removed his glasses, and considered the possibilities. No. 1: It was an accident. Ed was not involved but rather had profited from an impromptu tragedy that took the shadow of oppression from over his and his mother’s heads. No. 2: It had not been an accident. Ed had planned and premeditated the murder of his own father. Lucius didn’t know how he could pull that off. He didn’t even believe it all the way himself. He thought that that level of irony was just too much to be possible. _There’s only room for one murderer here,_ he joked privately. 

So then, what to do with this new found discovery. Lucius didn’t actually think Ed was also a murderer but he was interested to know how the man would react when talking about his father now. Lucius found himself curious at the prospect of learning more about Ed and seeing how much he could get him to open up, to expose himself. The pursuit could make for some distracting entertainment.

He let another day or two go past before he decided to reach out to Nygma. Around 3:00 o’clock, when his day was beginning to wind down, he picked up his phone to send a text. 

_ Hello. How goes your work?_

The phone buzzed with a reply less than a minute later: _As smoothly as one could hope. How are you?_

_I’m well,_ Lucius replied, glad of his concern. He waited a minute before sending: _I wondered if you’d like to get together to go over your paper some more. I’m free tonight, if you are._

Ed’s response was quick, bringing a faint smile to Lucius’ face. _I’d love to. Where should we meet?_

Lucius toyed with his phone, weighed his options, and decided to take the plunge. _My place. Is that okay with you?_

Three blinking dots appeared to show that Ed was typing his reply. A moment later they vanished and he started again. The dots lingered for awhile, making Lucius think perhaps he’d played his hand too early, and then: _Better than okay. What time works for you?_

_7:00._ And he followed with his address. 

_I can’t wait,_ came Ed’s reply. 

After the conversation, Lucius made an emergency call to one of the eateries that catered Wayne events and put in an order for two high-priced platter spreads to enjoy for later. He wrapped up his work for the day and set about picking up the food and drinks for the evening. He moved swiftly, there being little time between when he left work and when he expected Ed to arrive. Thankfully, his apartment was never messy so he didn’t have to waste any time straightening up his home. He turned his attention to his appearance. After shedding his suit jacket and bow tie, he undid the top two buttons of his fitted dress shirt, rolled his sleeves back to the elbows, and ran oil-slicked hands over his hair. After a liberal splash of cologne, he assessed himself as looking rather roguish. He told himself that this was less of a social engagement and more of a fishing expedition but his habit of getting gussied up for guests was a long-ingrained practice from his childhood, one not easily cast aside. 

He adjusted the lighting, set some music to play, and prepared the table. His intercom sounded at 6:52 and Lucius buzzed up his guest, feeling strangely excited. He opened his door to reveal Ed, smiling and looking all too handsome in a button-up and blazer. "Mr. Fox," he greeted warmly. "A pleasure to see you once more."

Lucius couldn’t help but admire Ed’s straight forward manner. He never seemed overly concerned about speaking his feelings or thoughts. "I’m glad to see you as well," Lucius replied, following Ed’s example for the moment. "Please come in."

Ed handed over the plastic bag he was carrying and crossed the threshold into the apartment. Lucius saw his eyes wandering about the apartment as he put the bag in the fridge and Ed shrugged off his coat for Lucius to take and hang. 

"You have a lovely home," Ed commented. He moved around the kitchen table, wandering further into the apartment and Lucius heard him laugh as he caught sight of the living room table. "I like this. An actual periodic table. Wherever did you find such a whimsical thing?"

"It’s a handmade piece," Lucius explained. "Commissioned online from a local artist." 

Lucius shut the closet door and as Ed moved, his foot nudged one of T’Challa’s toys from its place under the table. "Do you have an animal here?"

"Yes, a cat. I shut him in my bedroom because I wasn’t sure how you felt regarding pets." 

"Well, I like cats more than dogs," said Ed. "Though I wouldn’t worship any as the old Egyptians did."

"Ah. You might disapprove then." Lucius crossed the room and opened his bedroom door. Almost immediately, T’Challa emerged, meowing his complaints. "That is King T’Challa," Lucius introduced. "Just ignore the squalling. He thinks all manner of imprisonment is an affront to his dignity." 

"You should be ashamed to treat a royal with such uncouth behavior," Ed teased, petting the cat. 

"He’ll climb you," Lucius warned. "He doesn’t like to be carried because he can’t see but he definitely likes to ride high." 

"I see what you mean," Ed said as the cat began to do just that, clawing its way up his pant leg to claim his shoulder as a perch. 

Lucius watched them at play for a moment before moving into the kitchen. "Care for a drink?"

"Yes, please," Ed said, following after him. "Whatever you're having." 

While he sat himself down at the table, Lucius removed two beers from the fridge and uncapped them. He turned in time to see Ed choose a kiwi from the platter in front of him and T'Challa traveled a little down his arm, sniffing curiously.

"Absolutely not," Lucius said sternly as he joined Ed at the table, passing over a bottle. 

T’Challa meowed grumpily and jumped to the floor before stalking away, his tail held high. 

"What a strict master you are," Ed commented in amusement, watching the cat sulk off. 

"I like to think of it as a positive attribute." 

"Why am I not surprised?" Ed’s gaze traveled around the room for a moment. "By the looks of things here, you seem to be big on _order_."

Lucius skewered him with a look. "I find it most curious that a clean place garners a comment of concern before a messy one."

Ed grinned, meeting his eyes. "There is clean and then there is surgical, Mr. Fox." 

Lucius shrugged. "Neither of which should be seen negatively."

Ed’s eyes were glittering. "You sound like a man long used to defending a particular position."

"You could say so. My meticulous mother is to blame for my sense of tidiness. I’m used to things being in a natural order." He cleared his throat as he sat across from Ed with his own bottle of beer. Ed extended his and they clinked together before taking brief sips. Then Lucius said, "Enough about me. I’m eager to hear how your work’s progressed." 

Ed immediately sat up straight, his eyes trained on Lucius. "It’s a bit haphazard because I tend to work out of order but I’m focused on those that kill for pleasure, what we in the business classify as psychopaths. But since one of my main points of focus is the motivation, or the creation of the psychopath, I’m taking high profile cases and seeing if there are any similarities between them."

"And what have you found?"

Ed took a quick drink of beer then refocused his attention, holding up a hand to emphasize his point. "There’s always been speculation over what _creates_ a psychopath. Some say its environmental issues such as trauma. Others say its an inherent imbalance in the brain, what some scholars call ‘the serial killer gene’. My first goal is to find the points of origin, that act which shapes the killer, and document any similarities or divergences between cases."

"You’re very motivated to find out why a killer becomes a killer," Lucius observed. "Most people are only concerned with how to jail them or keep them from killing again."

"Most people are short-sighted," Ed said bluntly, waving his hands dismissively. "And my curiosity will always outweigh any desire for revenge or retribution." He snatched up another piece of fruit and chewed it slowly in thought. "Most serial killers experience trauma in their childhood, in their formative years. They tend to come from abusive homes and have strained relationships with their parents, typically mothers since most serial killers are men. But if every kid from an abusive home turned out to be a murderer, we’d show a much higher number of killers and psychopaths. So what makes similar cases diverge where one might become a killer and another, just a regular person?" 

"Therapy," Lucius suggested with a shrug. "Emotional awareness? I think in cases of child abuse, you have two possibilities: the abused child will emulate the behavior they grow up with, thus continuing the cycle, or the subject will completely reject what they know to be familiar and attempt to be better than they know."

"Those are good examples," Ed admitted. "But don’t you think there’s something more there? I don’t try to downplay the effectiveness of therapy but to think that merely talking about your feelings for an hour a week could mitigate the onset of psychopathy… It makes me wonder."

"Have you ever engaged in therapy?" he asked. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t ask such an intrusive question but he seriously doubted that Ed would take offense at his pushiness. 

Indeed, he answered quickly and honestly, "No. Well, not willingly. I spoke to a therapist in high school after a traumatic event. It was at the school’s behest, not my own."

‘"What was the traumatic event? That is, if you don’t mind sharing." 

Ed paused, took another slow sip of beer before speaking in a flat tone, "My father died shortly after my fifteenth birthday. It was a hunting accident."

"I’m sorry to hear that," Lucius said. Though it took little effort to summon up some sympathy, he was still watching Ed intently for his reaction. 

The bespectacled man merely shrugged. "Don’t bother," he said dismissively. "My father wasn’t a good man. I often thought his manner of death was ironic, for one who found sport in stalking and killing wild animals." 

"You didn’t share his proclivity for hunting." 

"Can’t say that I did," Ed answered flippantly. "What I learned about men who hunt is this: they’re often looking for a new target to direct their murderous impulses on."

"That’s a strong assessment," Lucius pointed out. A pause then, "So you weren’t sad when your father died?"

Ed took a deep breath and released it. "If you’d grown up with the man, you’d understand my feelings. My mother and I were much better off without him." 

"I’m sorry," he said again. His sympathy was genuine since Ed hadn’t attempted to lie or hide the less-than-stellar relationship he’d had with his father. It seemed a terrible and sad thing to feel better off without one’s parent. 

To his surprise, Ed gave him an unfaltering grin. "No worries," he said, effectively closing that conversation. "But now that you’ve laid me bare, you have to give something of yourself." 

Lucius blinked - first, at Ed’s descriptive choice of words and then, at his demand. "Something of myself?" he repeated. 

"That’s right," Ed said with a nod. 

"What would you like to know?" he asked evenly, posing the question so that Ed might feel like he had some control. And because he was interested to know where Ed’s curiosities would land. 

"Are you from Gotham?" Ed asked simply, quickly. 

"No, I moved here for college," Lucius answered. _As you did._ "I was born in Louisiana." 

"Louisiana," Ed repeated with interest. He bit into a slice of melon and chewed thoughtfully. "I never would have guessed that. You don’t have a bit of an accent." 

"I took elocution lessons to get rid of it," he admitted. "When I was younger and less self-assured."

"I have a hard time picturing that," Ed stated as he watched Lucius with careful eyes. "I assume you had a better childhood than I or the unfortunate Mr. Valeskas." 

"Definitely nothing as extreme. My mother is something of a handful but I’ve long since learned how to handle her."

"And how is that?" Ed asked swiftly. 

Lucius paused momentarily, thinking how much he would give. "With consideration and a healthy amount of deference," he answered. He looked up and met Ed’s alert gaze, registered the other man’s focus. Did Ed really find him so intriguing? Or was he merely hoping to see his own feelings reflected back to him?

He cleared his throat and decided to elaborate on the prior comment. "She is a product of a time when social conventions were strictly adhered to and so her appearance and reputation are her top priorities. She is a lady who makes her world what she wants it to be, by any means necessary. My sister Trinity refers to her as She Who Must Be Obeyed." 

"My, she sounds formidable," Ed commented. "And did you inherit her ferocity as well as her need for order?"

"No, the crown of rage goes to my sister. I take after my father, in both disposition and temperament."

Ed leaned forward suddenly, resting his elbows on the tabletop, and Lucius was struck by how he seemed to light up as his thoughts occurred to him. He was facing him with a smile and alert eyes. "Are you familiar with the four temperament theory?"

"Only by name," he answered. Truthfully, he had a better understanding than that but he found himself captivated by Ed’s enthusiasm in sharing his knowledge. 

Ed pushed his glasses up his nose and gestured emphatically as he spoke. Lucius subtly tracked Ed’s waving hands as he listened. 

"It’s a bit of psychologia that suggests there are four fundamental personality types: sanguine, choleric, melancholic, and phlematic -" he listed them, counting off with his fingers, "- and that those types can influence a person’s behavior and character." 

"Temperament theory’s roots come from the ancient theory of humorism," he supplied. "And it was the Greek physician Hippocrates who developed it into a medical theory, was it not?"

Ed’s smile was wide. "That’s correct. Now the belief is that being able to identify one’s personality type could lead to a prediction of behavior, i.e. violent crime."

"So what’s my personality type then?" he asked as he reached for a strawberry to bite into. 

"Oh, melancholic, for sure," Ed answered as he retrieved a piece of pineapple. "Melancholic individuals tend to be analytical and detail-oriented with a need for perfectionism within themselves and their surroundings, leading to tidy and fastidious habits."

He chuckled. "Yes, that sounds like me. And what is your own?" 

"Sanguine," Ed answered with a smile. "Talkative, social, and enthusiastic." He punctuated each character trait with a dramatic gesture and the image of him made Lucius smile. "Individuals with my personality type tend to incline towards restlessness and engaging in risk seeking behavior." He finished with a cheeky wink. 

Lucius’ smile widened. Edward was just as entertaining as he thought he’d be. "And what do those personalities say about our actions?" he asked. "Are we on the brink of psychopathy?"

"Living in this city, who isn’t?" Ed replied with a shrug. "But honestly, a further analysis is needed. Since humans do not adher to absolutes, it’s accepted that a balance of different personality types is most common, with people generally having an admixture of two or three secondary traits. For example, my secondary temperament would be the choleric type. Independent, decisive, and ambitious on one hand, violent, vengeful, and short-tempered on the other. Coincidentally, most serial killers have the choleric personality type. Couple that with my less than outstanding childhood, I’d say my chances of being a serial killer are much higher than yours."

One of Lucius’ eyebrows went up in surprise. "A strange thing to brag about, Mr. Nygma."

Ed shrugged with one shoulder, looking supremely nonchalant. "Silver linings, Mr. Fox. The dead dad’s nice and all but I could have stood to gain a little more from the whole ordeal."

Lucius had just reached for his beer and took a sip when the unexpected comment knocked him off balance. He laughed and choked on his drink at the same time, sending him into a coughing fit. Ed was on his feet in an instant, coming around the table to smack Lucius’ back and clear his airway.

"That-" Lucius said, once he’d composed himself. "- was a terrible joke." 

"Yeah but you still laughed," Ed pointed out. He was standing next to Lucius, his hand still on his back, rubbing in slow circles. "Are you okay now?" he asked softly. 

"Yes," Lucius said clearing his throat and sitting up straight. "I’ll say this: you have a lethal sense of humor."

"Not the first time I’ve heard that," Ed said cheerfully. He dropped his hand and slipped away from Lucius’ side and he felt the acute absence of the other man’s touch. Ed snatched up another few pieces of fruit before wandering into the living room. Lucius watched him as his eyes trailed along the row of houseplants and then the photos set up around the TV. He stood up just as Ed reached out to one of the photos on the stand. 

Are these your parents?" Ed asked, catching sight of their portrait. 

"Yes," he confirmed. "My father Lionel and my mother Tallulah." 

"Tallulah and Lionel," he repeated. "Trinity and Lucius. I’m sensing a pattern." 

"Include my brother Lamont and you’ve got one. My mother’s delightful design." 

"And if I had to guess, I’d say you’re the oldest. Possibly middle but definitely not youngest." 

"You’re trying to analyze me now?" Lucius asked. He rolled his shoulders back and took a deep breath. His shirt moved with him and Ed’s expression shifted quick as a flash but Lucius saw it - the fast darting of those sharp brown eyes to the brief exposure of his chest. If he wasn’t sure of Ed’s interest before, he felt somewhat more encouraged by his attention.

So he flattened his palms to the tabletop, hands spread apart, to give Ed a full view. The man’s gaze was steady, his smile unfaltering. _A handsome devil, indeed,_ Lucius thought. "So what do you base your assumption on?" he asked, meeting Ed’s eyes. 

"You have a particular manner about you. You’re helpful, responsible, and, from the short time I spent with you and Tatiana, I’m willing to bet you’re quite protective. If I spent more time, I’d probably see many signs of your Oldest Child syndrome."

"Ah. I seem to be appearing too decipherable. I’ll have to work at being more arcane." 

"You’re doing a fine enough job at it," Ed quipped back with a smile. "I just happen to have sharp eyes."

"I’m sure your optometrist would agree," he said, deadpan, making Ed chuckle. 

"Joke’s on you. I got these stylish frames from a friendly homeless man in the Narrows. They came with only a little bit of blood on them."

Lucius laughed, shaking his head. "I don’t need to guess with you. You have the ‘Look-At-Me’ personality of an only child." _A neglected one, at that,_ he added privately. 

Ed put a hand on his chest, faking shock. "Are you trying to say my personality is less than charming and enchanting at all times? You deal me grevious insult, Mr. Fox." 

Lucius rolled his eyes at the man’s theatrics. Such behavior was enjoyable for a time but Lucius could see himself eventually getting irritated by Ed’s antics. Ed could stand to benefit from learning the art of restraint and Lucius seemed the most suitable instructor. 

"Charms and enchantments are generally used to obfuscate," Lucius remarked. He glanced over in time to see Ed’s levity fading. "I wonder if you’re trying to conceal something."

Ed’s grin came back, sharper and sneakier. "Oh, you’re trying your hand at psychoanalysis now, huh? One could suggest your opinions are merely your own feelings projected to an external sense."

Lucius smiled. Not because he thought he was right but because he was amused at Ed’s need to point the finger and redirect the argument. Now, _that_ was cute. "You could be right," Lucius allowed. "Though I can’t think of what I’d be trying to conceal. Perhaps that I’m glad you came over." He caught Ed’s gaze and held it firm. "I’m enjoying your company, Edward," he said honestly. "Your sometimes less than enchanting personality notwithstanding." 

He saw the quick widening of Ed’s eyes, the slow coloring of his cheeks as he looked away, stammering somewhat. He was instantly endearing to Lucius once again who was feeling both triumphant and slightly rueful at knocking the man off his balance. "I - uh - which way to the bathroom?" 

Amused by his sudden nervousness, Lucius merely pointed the way. "Through that door." 

Ed popped out of his seat and beat a hasty retreat. Shaking his head slightly, he cleared the kitchen table of the empty platter and the beer bottles. He and Ed had gone through a six pack in roughly an hour and so a pleasant, lowkey buzz had taken root in Lucius. Otherwise, he would not goad so. He wiped down the table quickly then moved to the fridge and pulled out the second platter, this one a lobster/bacon/tomato spread, accented with chopped hard boiled eggs and avocado slices. He placed this on the periodic table, along with two glasses of cold water. He sat on the couch just as Ed emerged from the bathroom, shaking his hands out slightly as he came into view. He seemed to stop in his tracks and take in the sight of Lucius waiting patiently for his return. 

"Thank you," he said, recovering, as he sat and reached for the water. "This is just what I needed." He took a drink and Lucius couldn’t help but admire the stretch of his pale neck and imagined Ed’s reaction if he placed a kiss there. Probably that lost look of helplessness he sometimes got when he was feeling flustered. It was brief and subtle but in their few interactions, he’d clocked that reaction enough to recognize it. He wanted to soothe those frazzled nerves each time he saw that look. 

"I wanted to say," Ed started, after clearing his throat. "That I’m also glad you invited me." His smile widened. "You don’t seem to mind I interrupted your _Jeopardy_ time. I remember Tatiana saying you watched it every day."

"Oh, I set TiVO to record it. I can watch it whenever." 

"Is that right?" Edward sat back against the couch, spreading his long fingers over his knees. "Would you like to watch it together?" His smile stretched and his entire expression went mischievous. "If you had a bottle of harder stuff stashed away somewhere, we could make a competition of it."

Lucius leaned back against the couch as well, folding his hands patiently. "I could supply that. What do you propose, Edward?"

He took a breath, his cheeks briefly flushing and Lucius was grateful to see the emotion he’d tried to elicit was a success. 

"Each time either of us gets a wrong answer or the other answers first, the loser takes a shot. The winner is whoever has answered the most questions and is thus, not drunk." 

Lucius shot him a reproachful look. "You _drove_ here, Edward," he scolded gently. "Or is the subtle implication here that you’re so confident you won’t take a drop of alcohol?"

Edward’s grin was telling. "I wouldn’t dare be so audacious, _Lucius_," he replied, his mouth curling around the name. "If I emerge the loser, I’ll call an Uber to get me home. After all, if you’re as smart as Tatiana claims then I can only benefit from freeing you of a few brain cells."

Lucius snorted. "There’s that sense of humor again. One day someone will take that brazen attitude from you, Edward."

Ed blinked, his expression lighting up with interest. "I should relish that day," he said quietly. 

Lucius held his gaze for a moment in silence before he nodded decisively. "As long as you have safe passage, I agree to the terms." He reached for the remote and tossed it to Ed before standing up and making his way to the kitchen, to where he’d stored a bottle of whiskey in his cabinet. Taking two glasses in hand, he returned to the living room. Ed had already pulled up _Jeopardy_ on the screen and was digging into the platter, poking a chunk of lobster into the tangy mignonette sauce it had come with. 

"This is absolutely delicious," he commented after chewing and swallowing. 

"Glad you’re enjoying it," Lucius commented. "Shall we get started?"

Ed hit play and the program began. It ran through its usual introduction and then the host, Alex Trebek listed the categories; "The Tool Shed, Plurals, Dr. Suess Titles By Initials, Mixed Drinks, Art Terms, and Sing Us A Song, You’re The Piano Man. Raymond, make a selection." 

"I’ll take Mixed Drinks for 200, Alex."

"This mixture of vodka and tomato juice -"

"Bloody Mary," Ed shot out immediately. 

"Hold up." Lucius pressed the pause button. "You have to follow the rules of the game." 

Ed’s brow furrowed. "Why?" 

"Because there’s no point in playing if one is going to cheat," he said firmly. "If you’re on the show and you try to answer before the question is completed, you’re locked out of that round. That’s the rule we’ll follow. You must also answer in the proper form of a question so you should have said ‘what is a Bloody Mary’." 

"You’re such a stickler, Lucius," Ed complained. 

"Those are the terms," he said, holding fast. "Consider it for your benefit. A little adherence to the rules won’t harm you, I promise."

Ed grinned. "That obstinate nature of yours is really quite irresistable," he teased. A pause then, "I suppose my point is invalid and wiped from the board?" 

"Sadly so." 

"Fine. Let’s continue." 

He restarted the show and listened to the next clue. "Plurals for 200." 

"Alumnus." 

"What are alumni," Ed and Lucius said at the same time. They were both right. 

"The Tool Shed for 200, please." 

"’’Beastly’ tool consisting of a metal wire fed into curved pipes to remove an obstruction." 

"What is a snake," the two said together again, supplying another right answer. 

"I’ll take Dr. Suess by initials for 2."

"Answer: G.E.A.H." 

"What is - Green Eggs and Ham!" Ed had paused for just a beat to think but he’d spoken quickly, getting in the answer at the same time as Lucius. Lucius gave him a look of warning but didn’t comment. They both got the next three questions right until they returned to the category and this clue: F.I.S. 

"What is fff-" Ed faltered and Lucius swooped in. 

"What is Fox in Socks," he answered quickly. 

"-uck," Ed finished, his expression annoyed. 

Lucius chuckled as he paused the show to pour Ed a shot’s worth of whiskey and handed over the glass with a cheerful, "Bottom’s up." 

Ed took the glass with a pouting look that Lucius found absolutely adorable. He quickly busied his hands, taking a forkful of food from the platter in front of them, while Ed quickly downed his shot punctuating with a soft grunt. 

"You know it helps that you have a small child in your life," Ed remarked. "Of course you’d have superior knowledge of a children’s author."

"Don’t be a poor sport, Edward," Lucius rebuked him. "It’s not a likable look. Besides, it was only one question."

"I don’t like to lose," he declared petulantly, making Lucius smile. Ed was charming, for sure, but he also had a streak of insolence that Lucius yearned to correct. More and more, he was beginning to think his devious new friend needed someone’s firm hand to curb him. The position was growing with allure. 

"Well, that’s unfortunate," Lucius said as he leaned forward, holding Ed’s gaze. "Because that’s what’s going to happen. I couldn’t possibly let you defeat me in my own home." 

"Perish the thought," Ed said with a unctuous grin. "Shall we continue then?" 

They cleared the next half of the first round with no error. During the second half, Lucius was made to drink. He suspected Ed poured a little more than was necessary but he didn’t call him out on it. But he retaliated and made Ed drink twice more. He drank once more directly before Final Jeopardy, which the pair of them ended up getting right. The game was won, 2-3 in Lucius’ favor. 

"I told you that day in the restaurant, I wouldn’t let you best me again," he said as the show’s credits began to run. 

"So you did," Ed confirmed, leaning back against the couch. "You’re a man of your word and I must concede to a wit far defter than my own. A Ravenclaw through and though, surely." 

Lucius smiled. "Do you need me to call a car for you?" 

Ed waved a hand, the alcohol making his movements relaxed and languid rather than swift and precise as he normally was. "I’m quite able, Lucius," he said and whipped out his phone to open the rideshare app. "Six minutes away," he declared before slapping his thighs decisively and rising to his feet. "An unexpected end to a pleasant evening," Ed muttered as he made his way to the closet to retrieve his coat. Lucius stood up and moved behind him. 

"I’ll walk you downstairs," he offered while Ed was shrugging on his jacket."

The other man merely smiled easily at him and said, "Okay, Lucius." 

They exited the apartment together and piled into the elevator. Ed took a deep breath as he leaned against the wall near the buttons. "I’ll have to get you back for this," he vowed in a muzzy voice. "Honor demands it."

Lucius snorted. "You’re drunk." 

Ed returned his contempt in equal measure. "Not even close and don’t be too quick to dismiss me. I mean what I say."

"My apologies," Lucius conceded. "I’m curious to see what form your retribution will take."

Ed tilted his head back and merely grinned, his eyes closed and kept silent. 

The elevator expelled them on the ground floor. The was a car already parked and waiting and after checking the license plate number matched to the one in the app, Ed proceeded to climb in. 

"Text me when you get home," Lucius instructed. 

"Why?" Ed wondered, brow furrowed with confusion. 

"So that I know you’re home safe, of course," Lucius explained as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

Ed’s cheeky grin came back. "Such concern for me. You really are a thoughtful man, Lucius. I’ll text you," he said as he slid into the cab and shut the door. He waved lazily at Lucius through the window before dropping into a reclining position and promptly beginning to rest. Lucius waited until the car pulled away from the curb before he headed back upstairs to his home.

Both men were consumed with thoughts of the other. As Ed stretched out in the backseat of his ride, alcohol singing through his blood, he was practically humming in delight. A fun night getting to know his new friend and indulging in trivial pursuits. He’d turned up the charm and been rewarded for it when Lucius decided to indulge him in banter that bordered on provocative, albeit in his own reserved nature. He could sense Lucius’ moments of impatience with him and truthfully, it only made him want to provoke the stoic man more. He felt refueled with a fresh desire to crack Lucius’ imperturbable veneer and new ideas began taking root in his mind.

Upstairs in his apartment, Lucius laid on his couch and idly petted T’Challa who was curled up on his stomach. The evening had proved a pleasing expedition. He wasn’t yet clear on the matter of Edward Nashton Sr.’s suspicious death. Ed’s flippancy and macabre sense of humor could be seen as a cover or merely understandable disregard for a parent who had abused him. Despite the rocky start to his life, Ed had grown into a man of intellect, albeit a strange, sometimes unusual one. Remembering his Cheshire grin, the emphatic way he gestured as he explained some concept, and the bright focus of his gaze when he listened in turn… Lucius had to admit he was growing smitten with his new friend. Though he had not gained the answer to his initial question regarding the death of Nashton Sr., he was not feeling pressed to pursue it. He was enjoying his time with Ed and did not see a reason to jeopardize their time together. Whatever had happened in the past would come to the light, as those things inevitably did. Until then, he intended to take pleasure at his leisure and wasn’t interested in damaging his relationship with Ed at this time.


	6. Beyond the Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed asks Lucius on a date in an effort for them to get to know one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold onto your hats, this is gonna be a long chapter.

What had started as a mere experiment in professional curiosity was quickly turning into an electrifying, all-consuming task that left Ed jittery with excitement. Every moment he spent with Lucius deepened his infatuation for the man. In fact, after their latest meeting, that infatuation was sure to evolve into full blown obsession. He went over every aspect of their encounter with a fine tooth mental comb, analyzing, deciphering, trying to make whole the image of Lucius he had in his mind. The man was so much more interesting than Ed could have ever expected.

His initial inspection of the apartment was enough to note Lucius' orderly tendencies. But hearing his defensiveness over the fact was curious and led him to believe that that sense of order was more than just a little ingrained. It was definitely obsessive compulsive disorder or he'd eat his hat. And it made him wonder just how Lucius had come to be burdened with that obsessive behavior when he otherwise seemed so well-adjusted. Perhaps his fierce and formidable mother was to blame. He'd mark that as a point deserving of further focus. 

His thoughts revolved around Lucius and how debonair he'd looked, how enticing he'd smelled. He'd teased and prodded as he liked to do and Lucius had responded in the straightest of manners, cutting through all his fun.

_I'm enjoying your company, Edward._

Right to the point. And unexpectedly direct enough that he'd tripped Ed up and forced him to beat a retreat to the bathroom. In there, he'd lightly splashed some water on his face and tried to hide the coloring in his cheeks that signified a strong emotional response. 

He could not remember the last time someone professed to _liking_ being around him. 

And not only that but it was the first time he'd called him by his first name, doing away with formal politeness for something that was privately more intimate. Oh, he did want to hear Lucius saying his name again but under very different circumstances. 

He wondered why Lucius hadn't pressed him or made a move. He had every chance to press his ‘home court’ advantage and judging from their banter, they obviously liked one another. Ed would have been more than receptive to some shared physicality between them but it seemed apparent that Lucius intended to take his time. He recalled their meetings exactly and began taking apart Lucius' every word and using it to form a more complete picture of the man. 

Lucius had a desire for control. Ed had clocked it on their first outing, when he'd reached to pay for their meal. 

_Allow me,_ he’d suggested. 

_I do not,_ Lucius had replied simply. 

That moment had piqued Ed's interest and he found further evidence of Lucius' attempts to control his environment: his home was impeccable, surgical in its order, not an item out of place, his clothing and appearance were strictly meticulous, and his manner was commanding yet subtle. He'd pushed him to adhere to the established rules of Jeopardy and gotten him to agree to send word once he'd arrived home. Small things in the grand scale but it still showed that Lucius did not need to appear aggressive or demanding to get his way. His commitment to rules and order were quietly evident in his every word and mannerism. 

_What a strange and curious specimen,_ Ed thought, finding himself mystified at this new assessment. _How does a man like this come to be a killer for hire? I know how_ I _came to be but what triggered the change in Lucius?_  


He was now operating under the theory that Lucius was a paid serial killer. Not a rare commodity in Gotham but his hunger at understanding the man pushed him in his pursuit. Since he was already doing light research for the fake paper that Lucius thought he was writing, he could easily apply the knowledge to the man himself. For example, most serial killers show signs of their future endeavors in their adolescence. By Lucius' account, his childhood had been regular and functional. But Ed could not ignore the cautionary way Lucius had spoken about his mother. Innocuous to some but easily noticed by someone with the alternate perspective borne of an abusive childhood; there was something there. 

Their conversation made him think of his own mother who he had not spoken to in a couple of weeks. He could go without speaking to her for awhile; she was living her retirement years in happy comfort down in Florida. He was glad for her safety; it had not been without its risks to obtain. But it had been done and his father, the source of their misery, removed. Little had he known how that one act would set him on his path. 

Before Lucius' line of questions, it had been many years since he"d spared his deceased dad a thought. He was content to leave his memories of his father locked away in some inaccessible part of his brain as surely as his father"s body lay rotting, locked away in the earth. 

Put there by him. 

He was self aware enough to recognize the root of his own corruption, that which led him down his homicidal path. But where was Lucius'? He intended to dive deep into the rabbit hole to find this source. 

He started his search online. Lucius did not have much in the way of social media, aside from a perfectly polished LinkedIn profile. He seemed to recognize the importance of minimizing one's digital trail. The same could not be said for Trinity Fox. Ed set his sights on Lucius' sister and almost immediately found an in. She was not shy at all about her online presence and Ed could easily see why. Trinity Fox was a stunningly pretty woman. In every photo, her hair, nails, makeup, and clothes were exceptionally styled. She was the quintessential image of a 'high maintenance' woman, the type that devoted a great deal of time and attention to their appearance. A recurring theme in the Fox family, it seemed and something that gathered his notice. Being an only child from a broken home, he was always curious about traditions and mannerisms that larger, tight knit families shared. 

Her Facebook page was restricted but he could still glean bits and pieces of information. Trinity was a fitness instructor at an upscale gym in Midtown. She was often photographed in athletic wear, tight leggings, sports bra, and with her impressively toned stomach on display. He found an old profile picture of her that featured Lucius. They were both in the gym, dressed for a workout. Lucius leaned casually in the background looking somewhat skeptical, while Trinity posed in the mirror, snapping the picture of the two of them. Ed's eyes drew to Lucius' arms, his biceps just slightly glistening with sweat and he had to shake himself to keep on track. What a ridiculously good looking pair of siblings; it hardly seemed fair.

He followed Trinity's internet trail from Facebook to Instagram where he got a further look into the depths of her life. Trinity was a serious extrovert. Her page was plastered with photos and videos of various expeditions - club nights, concerts, cooking classes, art exhibits, yoga in the park, vacations - all painting her as an outgoing and intrepid young woman. Tatiana featured in quite a few pictures, often polished and posed as her mother in some matching outfit. 

A handful of videos focused on Tatiana in half minute bursts: a clip of Trinity doing yoga while Tatiana flipped and bent in the background, Tatiana and three other little girls performing choreography to a Beyonce song, and finally a video of mother and daughter, sitting at a piano and this one he tapped, interested. 

The airy tinkling of piano keys started up mixed with Trinity's high, clear voice: _"Un-deux-trois-quatre-cinq-six-sept-huit-neuf,"_ she sang as her fingers danced over the keys. 

Tatiana started and repeated the line, as she took over playing her scale. 

"Good!" Trinity complimented and repeated the refrain again, getting Tatiana to parrot her once more. 

_"Sept-huit-neuf,"_ she sang to three distinct keys. Tatiana followed her lead, they repeated the line again and then together sang, _"One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-niiiine!"_

Ed smiled at the little performance. Trinity was quite obviously not as reserved as Lucius and that made him curious. Whenever they featured in pictures together, Ed got the distinct impression each photo was Trinity's desire and Lucius was merely going along to appease her. No proof of that yet but an impression that required some further scrutiny. A few thumbnails showed the second son, Lamont Fox, who looked like a somewhat wilder version of Lucius.

He followed a link to Trinity's personal website and learned that aside from her job training at the gym, she offered private training sessions. He filed that information away for later but he did not expect to act on it. He knew instinctually that Lucius would not take kindly to his family being drawn into their games so Ed was content to leave Trinity Fox alone. For the time being. He had other avenues to explore anyway.

He drove downtown to the Narrows, the hardest neighborhood in Gotham. The Narrows operated as something of an independent state from the rest of Gotham. Crime was thick in the Narrows, which was saying something for a city like Gotham. The Narrows' denizens preferred to administer their own brand of justice, usually through the application of swift, bloody, and public acts of violence. They held a strict code of silence against the police and treated all outsiders with hostile derision. Through all the chaos and brutality, the neighborhood was governed by a Queen, mysterious and cautious but every bit as bloodthirsty as the subjects she ruled over. For this reason, he - rather, most people - tended to avoid the neighborhood unless there was something worth searching for on its streets. 

The Narrows was a hotbed for criminals of every flavor and he knew with the right assistance, he'd find the most delectable one. 

He parked in front of Krank's Toys in the South sector and entered the old shop. He was greeted by Krank's usual menagerie of grinning stock, carefully carved statues, wind-up animals, and the like. It was a custom shop, usually servicing clientele through online and postal avenues. As such, the shop itself was often devoid of bodies. This was the case when Edward entered to find the proprietor's young son sitting at the counter, idly tinkering with some machinery and a soldering gun. 

"My dad's not here right now," the teenager said without lifting his eyes from his work. "Try back in an hour." 

"That's fine," Ed said as he walked approached the counter. "It's not the Krank father I'm here to see." 

Finally, Cosmo Krank looked up. A flash of recognition widened his eyes and he straightened up quickly. "Oh yeah?" He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and leaned against the countertop. "What can I help you with, Mr. Nygma?"

"Whispers in the underworld say you're quite the up and coming hacker. If that's a correct designation, I have a task I could hire you for." 

Cosmo's eyes glittered, greedy for recognition and the money that'd come with it. "I'll listen to your pitch," he said, folding his hands in their fingerless gloves together.

"I need a skilled hacker whose experienced in digging up dirt on people. The dirtier the better."

"That should be easy. Who do you want me to dig into?"

"No, you misunderstand me. The search is for the dirt. Who it muddies is of less consequence. Find the filth that someone in the city is trying to bury and I'll handle the rest."

Cosmo arched an eyebrow and gave him a knowing look. "One serving of blackmail material coming up. Now let's talk about my payment."

They hashed out the details of their deal quickly before Ed departed. His way was clear; he had to learn everything he could about Lucius Fox, what motivated him, what his methodology was like. He saw himself barrelling towards obsession but he didn't care. Lucius Fox was fascinating enough to warrant the attention. As he saw it, he only had one course of action; learn the man inside out, the professional persona he permitted the public to see and the secret self he sequestered out of sight. Ed was determined to know both sides of Lucius Fox. 

To know the killer, he'd have to see him kill. Cosmo was the first part of that plan. The second was Fish Mooney. 

He made his way to Mooney's Nightclub one weekday afternoon. He chose a time where he might catch her unoccupied and was rewarded with a near empty bar. He spotted Mooney sitting with Zsasz and made his way over. The bald hitman eyed him carefully and leaned forward to speak softly into Mooney's ear and as he approached, Fish's alert hazel eyes pricked up and locked on his. 

"Miss Mooney." Ed stopped before her table and gave a short bow out of respect. "I hope I'm not interrupting. My name -"

"-is Edward Nygma," Fish finished for him. She was dressed in a shimmering burgundy dress with dramatic gold jewelry and nails filed into claws. "I'm well aware. I hope you have a good reason for being here."

"Well, I think it's a good reason. Would you be open to talking a little business?" 

Fish leaned back in her seat, giving him an imperious look before she addressed the man beside her. "Victor. You can vouch for this..._character_," she dubbed him with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Should I listen to what he has to say?"

Zsasz sized him up briefly then said, "Yeah, Moon, he's alright. Definitely not an idiot, time wasting, mouth breather."

He mouthed a "thank you" to Zsasz who responded with a cocky grin and a thumbs up. 

Mooney made a quietly skeptical face before she waved her hand, her bright nails clicking together. "Give the man the floor then, Victor."

Zsasz stood up and Ed took the newly occupied seat. 

"Care for a drink?" Fish asked as she lifted her own to her lips. 

"No, thank you. I intend to be brief."

"Not a time waster, indeed," she remarked. "So, Mr. Nygma, what brings you to me?"

"If anyone makes a business of eliminating someone, it's you, Miss Mooney. You have the best assassins in the city on your payroll. I'd like to employ one such to engage a target."

"Who is the target?"

"That I can't divulge just yet. I am in the employ of particular people and one of their requirements was extreme discretion. I cannot name the target until I know he will be dealt with by the right hand."

"What are you looking to do to this target?" Fish asked, business-like, as her nails tapped against the tabletop. "You want it loud and bloody, I can arrange that. If you prefer quick and quiet, that can be done too."

"The latter option, please. I've heard rumors that you employ a spotless professional, someone who can leave a kill without a scrap of forensic evidence. If my preference is taken into account, I'd prefer that person for this job."

"A clean kill like that will cost something. How much are you willing to pay for this hit?"

"I'm authorized to go as high as fifteen grand. I can probably eke out another five if this can be fast tracked, I'm thinking under ten days."

"Question!" Fish tsked slightly and laced her fingers together while giving him a critical eye. "Why not go to Barbara Kean with this request?" she asked, arching one eyebrow. "As I understand it, you and she are rather chummy."

"I'd consider that an overstatement," he replied. "Miss Kean and I have worked together in a professional capacity before but there are no personal feelings attached to our dealings. And in this circumstance, you have the better deluge of resources." 

"Hmm," she said simply, her mouth twisting. 

"Problem, Miss Mooney?" he asked, leaning back in his seat and surveying her closely. "My money not green enough, perhaps?"

"Oh, that's not the problem," she assured. "I just have difficulty trusting a man who hasn't made his loyalties known."

He gave her a rictus of a smile. "I have affairs of my own to tend to and I gain nothing by inserting myself into the power struggle between you and Barbara Kean. Do you imagine that every criminal in the city pledged their allegiance to either court?"

"Certainly not," she said with a shake of her hand. "But do _you_ imagine I'm inclined to do favors for anyone who didn't pick a side?"

He gave her a wry look. "This is hardly a favor. It's a job with an invoice attached. I would hope a shrewd business woman like you would see the benefit of taking on this job."

Fish's sharp eyes gave him a critical up and down. Her mistrust wasn't completely unfounded so Ed privately praised her suspicion, even though it was impeding his goal. Mooney was the only link that connected Lucius to his deadly dealings; he needed her to cave. 

"I'm willing to raise the bounty to twenty-five grand," he declared. "I can make that happen on my end. Now, I don't know how much you pay your hitmen and how much you keep for yourself but either way, I'm sure you can spin that into a nice little bonus for yourself. It's easy to see that the money is well spent," he commented and waved a hand at her stylish clothing. 

That did it. The corner of her lip twitched and she raised her drink to hide her smirk. "Don't think I don't see you trying to flatter me, Mr. Nygma," she said once she'd set the glass back down. 

"I only speak the truth," he replied. 

"Then tell me, why not handle this yourself? I know your reputation well. A skilled genius such as you should be able to handle something of this magnitude, no?" Her furtive smile told him she was volleying back his flattery. 

"I could handle it," he admitted. "But as I mentioned, the need for discretion is paramount and I'm a little too -" He twisted his wrists and gestured dramatically, "-_flashy_," he finished. 

Mooney chuckled, shaking her head. "That you are. Alright, Mr. Nygma. I'll accept your contract on the condition that you and I must do business again in the future." 

He was quick to agree. "I can make that happen." 

"Wonderful," Mooney said, her voice sweet as honey. "Get me the name of that target in the next 48 hours, will you? I don't have time to wait for you to drag your ass." 

Ed stood up quickly and extended his hand to her, palm up. Mooney's eyes flicked from his hand to his face before she slowly placed her hand in his. He lowered his head and lightly kissed the ring on her middle finger. He did not miss the flash of pleasure in her eyes from the gesture of respect. "Was a pleasure, Miss Mooney. I'll be in contact soon." And he swept away from the table. 

Two pawns on the board and his plan to catch this killer was set in motion. That snare would tighten in due course. Now, he turned his attention to the genteel. It was Lucius that had initiated their last meeting, inviting Ed into his home, and now he hoped to return the favor. He was also excited to see Lucius again though when he next extended an invite, he told himself it was all part of a larger plan to understanding the man. What better way than a date?

He waited a little, weighing his options, before choosing to call Lucius over their previous method of texting. They were on a first name basis now, after all; he deserved the delight of hearing Lucius' rich voice. He was satisfied to hear Lucius pick up and say with warm joy, "Hello Edward." 

Just hearing him put a smile on Ed's face quickly. "Lucius," he replied, savoring the man's name. "How are you? Is this a good time to talk?"

"I'm well, thank you, and this is a fine time. I'm getting some work done but it's somewhat lowkey at the moment."

"What are you working on?" Ed asked curiously. 

"Some VR tech for the R & D department, a little project I've been helping toy with for awhile."

"What does it entail?" Ed asked, persisting in his line of questioning. "Unless you're not allowed to tell me or something."

"This isn't as classified as all that. It's standard tech but I'm trying to update some of its specs to enhance the overall experience. Modern VR works with headsets and is fairly immersive but not enough. I'm trying to advance the tech to tap into certain parts of the brain in order to activate sensory and tactile reactions in real time." 

"That sounds fascinating. Are you very far along in the project?"

"Not quite. There's still a few bugs in the code to root out but all things in time." A pause then, "Did you have a question about your own project?"

"Alas, no, not this time. I called to ask your opinion on something."

"On what?"

"Musical theater. Your thoughts?"

"Hm. I'd say I have a casual interest and appreciation for the medium."

"Well, that's better than outright aversion, I suppose."

"Why do you ask?"

Ed cleared his throat carefully before stating, "I have a friend whose performing in the East End on Friday night. She invited me, said I could bring a plus one so I wondered if you'd like to go with me."

A moment of silence from the other end then Lucius asked, "What's the show?"

"Sweeney Todd."

"Ah, the Demon Barber How perfectly macabre." There was a sound like Lucius adjusting something before he said, "Sure. I'd love to go with you. Will there be food?"

"We could get some," Ed suggested quickly as his heart skipped a beat at Lucius' ready acceptance. "After the show, the troupe usually goes out for food and drink. We're welcome to join or go our separate way."

"Are they all friends of yours?"

"Well, they're all members of an acting troupe and I'd say I'm casually acquainted with at least half of them. We've done a little collaboration in the past."

"I see. In that case, I should like an introduction."

"Easily done," he said, feeling a flash of excitable adrenaline that he managed to control and conceal. "Fair warning - the performance might be bad but it'll be a fun time all the same."

Lucius chuckled. "Is that supposed to be an encouraging endorsement?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to oversell the quality of the performance lest I end up looking like a liar."

"Heaven forbid," Lucius replied with a smile in his voice. 

"Well! I don't want to keep you from your work. I'll confirm the time and address and text you the details. Other than that, I shall see you Friday."

"I look forward to it," Lucius responded before they disconnected the call. 

Friday came about in regular time but Ed rose early to attend to business before the night's activities. He made his way down to the Narrows and walked up on Krank's Toy Shop to find the younger Krank out on the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette. When Cosmo spotted him, he flicked aside his cigarette and beckoned him feverishly. 

Father Krank was in the shop, bustling to and fro. Ed followed Cosmo through a side entrance and upstairs to the apartment above the shop. "Were you able to find what I was looking for?" he asked once they were secluded away. 

"Pfft, and then some," Cosmo commented. "Honestly, dude, I feel like I need a shower after all the digging around I been doing."

"Give me the worst of your worse," Ed said. 

"Man, this stuff is hella nasty," Cosmo said. "Don't say I didn't warn you." 

He passed along a folder of information and Ed opened it with morbid curiosity. He only had to flip a handful of pages before he stopped, trying to keep his revulsion in check. 

"Oh, this is perfect," he said softly and reached to pay the young hacker. 

He didn't need to spend much time poring over the folder's contents. He knew automatically that this was the bait he wanted. He had only to pass the information along to Fish Mooney and his plan would be underway. Nothing would be gained by going over it with a fine tooth; he had other things to occupy his mind. 

The night of the designated date, Ed gave particular focus to his appearance. He wore dark green slacks, impeccably pressed, a clean white t-shirt and a checkered blue and green button-up vest over it. He was adorned with a golden chain that led to a hidden pocketwatch and he'd switched his usual prescription glasses for ones with eye-catching gold wire frames. He'd added some product to his usually straight locks that gave him more of a curl then tousled his hair into careless abandon. More attention than he was commonly used to giving but he hoped Lucius would notice his endeavor. 

He was standing outside of Hanson Hall, a rundown old playhouse in the East End, casually surveying his pocketwatch as he awaited Lucius' appearance. The sidewalk was filled with people milling about, some into the playhouse, others in opposite directions. His scanning eyes cut through the crowd and found Lucius making his way towards him. He was dressed in dark jeans, a collared shirt, and a red sweater that seemed to hug the intimate curvature of his muscles. Ed found his hungry eyes tracing that unmistakable tone under Lucius' clothes. 

As he approached, Lucius appraised him carefully and smiled. "Edward," he said, extending his hand to shake his warmly. "You look different." 

"Yes, well, I thought a night on the town constituted a little more effort on my part." 

"I like it," Lucius approved. "You look good." 

He looked away to hide just how he pleased he was with Lucius' notice and appreciation. "As do you," he returned. "Come on." 

Ed led the way into the playhouse. It had the kind of crumbling infrastructure that was supposed to be passed off as vintage or quaint. The stage was draped with heavy velvet curtains and the entire place wouldn't fit more than a hundred people, if that. Their fellow theatre goers milled about in fashion of varying extravagance, floor length skirts, waistcoats, and hats that reflected the time period of the night's show. Ed shot Lucius a mischievous smirk. "For once, Lucius, I think you're the most underdressed in the room." 

Lucius gave a carefree shrug. "I must allow others to shine, every now and then. I'm generous like that."

Ed laughed, shaking his head as he weaved through the crowd, heading backstage. 

The energy backstage was even more chaotic. The stagehands bustled to and fro, hustling equipment and props, barking orders, crying out for assistance. The actors, few as they were, mingled with each other, practicing lines, giving encouragement, passing around a bottle. The whole thing was a frantic rush of activity. Watching Lucius out the corner of his eye, Ed thought he spied signs of consternation in his stance and the minimal way he seemed to wince at the din around them. _Sensory sensitive,_ Ed noted. _Averse to loud environments and possibly large crowds._ His attention was grabbed by a sudden burst of laughter, a loud witch's cackle, and he found the source surrounded by her fellow actors, preparing for their imminent performance. 

"Hey, Lila!" Ed called out. 

The woman at the center of the group whirled around and her expression changed quickly from curiosity to delight as she lifted one edge of her skirt to sashay over. Lila, playing the lead female role of Mrs. Lovett, looked every bit the part with an elaborate Victorian dress and her auburn curls pinned atop her head. "Eddie," she greeted him happily with a hug. "Long time no see, ringleader. How the hell are ya?"

"I'm splendid, darling. You know I wouldn't pass up the chance to see you on stage again." He cleared his throat and directed the performer to his company. "Lila, this is my friend, Lucius Fox. Lucius, this is Lila Aram. We used to work together." 

Lucius extended his hand to Lila and shook hers. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Aram." 

Lila giggled and waved her hands. "Call me Lila, please. This place don't warrant that much formality."

"As you wish, Lila," Lucius acquiesced. 

"Setting up for this has been one damn obstacle after another," Lila complained as she crossed her arms under her chest and cocked her hip. "This place had a bunch of health code violations that we had to adjust before we could open. Then a couple of extras dropped out; not super important but a pain in the dick to replace on short notice. _Then_ we had the Fire Marshal trying to put her foot up our ass. So tonight's the culmination of a lot of pain and suffering. Used to be you could just set up a venue anywhere, now there's a ton of red tape in the way." She rolled her eyes and nudged Ed. "Like back in the day, huh?"

"They're not so far flung days gone by," Ed replied. "If one has enough persistence." 

"Hmph." Lila shrugged, reached into a purse hanging at her elbow and withdrew a flask. "Have you seen this show before, Lucius?" Lila asked as she unscrewed the cap. 

"I'm familiar with the story but no, I haven't seen it performed before." 

Lila smiled, showing her teeth. "You're in for a treat then. I _love_ first time attendees." She took a pull from her flask then asked, "Y'all gonna chill after the show? Grab a drink?" 

Ed shot Lucius a look and he merely shrugged, "It's your call." 

Smiling, Ed said to Lila, "Let's decide when it's over. Depending on the performance, we may find a strong need for drink by the end of the night."

"You damn smartass!" Lila chided as she smacked him on the arm. She rolled her eyes and addressed Lucius, "I hope you've got enough sense to keep this one in check."

"I will do my level best," Lucius vowed. 

She smiled graciously. "Excellent. We're almost done setting up. You two should go get seated." 

She departed and Ed led Lucius back into the seating area. People still chattered, moving about, so they claimed their seats, somewhere comfortably between the front and the middle. 

"Do you come to shows like this a lot?" Lucius asked once they'd settled. 

"Not as often as I used to," Ed admitted. "Truthfully, I've been a little more dedicated to work as of recently." Which really meant he was devoting more attention to his deadly occupation. He simply gave Lucius a smile. "It leaves little time for whimsy." 

Lucius arched an eyebrow and gave him a slightly skeptical look. "Somehow I doubt that's a sacrifice you make in preference of anything else."

Ed's grin widened. "Well, you certainly have a decent estimation of my character." 

Lucius glanced towards the stage where the sound of furniture scraping could be heard behind the heavy velvet curtain. "Are you and Lila good friends?" he asked. Though his tone was casual, Ed clocked his interest all the same. 

"You could say that," Ed answered. "We used to work together." 

"In what capacity?" 

Ed grinned. "Aren't you full of questions?" 

"Would you prefer I show no interest at all?" 

"You know I cannot possibly abide that," Ed retorted. "But to answer, we hosted a kind of game show together. Think trivia night at your regular bar and just magnify that a bit." 

"What manner of game show?" Lucius wondered, intrigued now. 

"I'll tell you all about it," Ed promised before his attention was grabbed by someone taking the stage. "After the show."

"Please take your seats!" the attendant announced. "The show is about to begin!"

The expected scurrying to claim a chair commenced and in another few minutes, the lights were dimming and the crowd quieting. Once silence had descended, the curtain rose and the music began. A lone man, the narrator, straightened up and delivered the opening ballad in dulcet tones. 

_Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd  
His skin was pale and his eye was odd  
He shaved the faces of gentlemen  
Who never thereafter were heard of again  
He trod a path that few have trod  
Did Sweeney Todd  
The demon barber of Fleet Street_

The ensemble soon joined, sending the opening number into a building crescendo. The singing and the band were better than Ed had expected and he happily drummed his fingers against his knee, keeping in time with the beat. He snuck glances at Lucius and was gratified to see him alert and focused on the events happening on stage. 

When Lila swept onto stage, minutes later to the beginning notes of Worst Pies In London, she immediately commanded attention. Her striking hair was artfully tussled, her corset tightened to accentuate her curvaceous figure. A few hoots and wolf whistles sounded from the crowd and Lila gave a stern but knowing look before returning her attention to the fellow portraying Todd. And then she launched into her song and her sharp, spiky recitation helped round out the image of an opportunistic madwoman. 

The whole thing was two hours of gleeful, maniacal bloodletting and the actors brought a light-heartedness to the whole gorey affair. At the final ballad and the curtain drop, Ed and Lucius were both on their feet, applauding in appreciation. The ovation lasted for a minute or two before the crowd began to break up and file out. Ed led the way through the milling theater-goers to the backstage area where the cast was in high, singing spirits. Lila spotted them immediately and separated from the group to greet them. Her hair had lost some of its life and hung in errant strips about a sweaty face that she cooled with a handheld lace fan. Despite her messiness, she grinned, exuberant. 

"So?" she questioned directly. "What did you think?" 

"You were rather outstanding," Lucius complimented. "Your singing voice is quite powerful. The fellow playing Todd was good too but I think you overpowered him a bit." 

Lila's eyes lit up with pleasure. She shut her fan with a snap, swiped her hair back over her forhead, then moved to Lucius' side. Lucius' reflexively hooked his arm and she held on, slipping her arm through his. "So, will you be joining our little afterparty?" she asked as Ed took her other side. 

"I should think so," Lucius agreed, shooting a brief look at Ed for signs of objection. He, having none, simply shrugged with a devil-may-care smile though he was happy that Lucius didn't want the night to come to a close just yet. "Do you need to get changed?" he asked Lila. 

She flashed a smile. "Change? Oh no, darling." 

And so minutes later they joined the troupe still decked out in their Victorian finery as they marched their way down Madison Avenue. 

A group of about eight in waistcoats and corsets, making little effort to quiet their din as they moved through the streets. 

For Lucius' sake, Ed allowed the larger group to wander ahead while he, Lila, and Lucius walked some ten feet behind them. Between the two men, Lila looped her arm through theirs creating a chain as she skipped merrily along. "You do well as the star," Ed said as they walked. "But I always knew you were bound for more than a supporting role." 

Lila smiled at the praise then shot a glance at Lucius. "Has Eddie told you what we used to do?" she asked. 

"As a matter of fact, he has not," Lucius replied and glanced at Ed over her head. "Even though he said he would." 

"Alright, alright," Ed said. "A couple years back, I was running a - well, a game show of sorts out of the Narrows and Lila was my lovely assistant." 

"The Narrows? Wasn't that a bit dangerous?"

"Oh, I'm born there," Lila piped up, turning her head to meet Lucius' eyes. "You get left alone down there if you throw in with someone who knows the streets. Since I protected him, you could think of me as the muscle." 

"I see," Lucius responded. His gaze switched to focus on Ed. "What manner of game show was it?" 

"I called it the Riddle Factory," he recounted. "People would volunteer as a contestant in the game. The objective was for them to solve one riddle that I posed to them. If they got it right, they had to then pose a riddle to me. If they could give one that I couldn't solve, they'd walk out with a cash grand prize." 

"And how did you help with that?" Lucius asked Lila. 

"Basic crowd management," Ed interjected. "Choosing the contestant, turning the hourglass, giving hints here and there to those that were truly stumped." 

Lila's hold on his arm tightened slightly and he saw her glance at him from the corner of her eye. That was because she knew good and well she had never gives hints to his riddles; he would never have allowed that. He merely patted her hand and gave her an innocent smile. 

"What happened to those unfortunate enough to fail both riddles?" Lucius wondered. 

"That was usually left up to the crowd," Ed said casually. Another falsehood but he wasn't about to reveal that he chose the punishments for the poor souls of the Riddle Factory. He did not think Lucius would find Pop Goes The Kneecap or Rabid Sack of Rats as enjoyable entertainment. The Narrows denizens had loved it however; a weird bunch, protective of their own but not above laughing at their public pain. 

"Yeah, usually the crowd just stripped the loser naked and made then dance to get their clothes back," Lila supplied, backing up his lie. Her hand on his arm was firm and she flashed him a brief smile. "Or forced them to drink until they puked or passed out." 

"I suppose that's considered _fun_ down in the Narrows," Lucius said delicately. 

"You betcha," Lila agreed cheerfully. 

The distance between their trio and the acting troupe ahead of them had widened but they could still hear when the boisterous group decided to start belting tunes. Lila perked up immediately and slipped her arms loose of the two men. "S'cuse me, fellas," she sang before marching off to join in with the chorus. 

Her space vacated, Ed drifted a little closer to Lucius. "We're not going much further," he reassured. "Just to the next block." 

"Uh huh," Lucius replied. He was watching Ed with a new, critical interest. "So, you were a host in the Narrows, of all places. I suppose I have you correctly pegged as the reckless sort." 

Ed snorted at Lucius' choice of word. "What's reckless about going into a crime-ridden neighborhood notorious for its hostility towards outsiders? I did have protection after all, though your concern is sweet." 

Lucius looked like he was about to retort when the singing from the troupe suddenly burst into the night, aided by Lila's powerful lungs. They were singing the opening song, No Place Like London, but with some modification. 

_ There's a place in the world you don't wanna be stuck  
And the inhabitants don't have very much luck  
And their morals ain't worth but a single fuck  
And it goes by the name of Gotham…  
The elite of society are a privileged class  
Using money and wealth to degrade and harass  
Letting the city fall to death and greed…  
Yes, you too have walked the streets and seen the cost,  
For the cruelty of men is nothing measured against loss  
When there's no place like Gotham!  
_

"You know," Ed started conversationally. "It wasn't 'til during the show that I began to see a lot of similarities between our fair city and Victorian London."

"Oh?" Lucis questioned. "How so?" 

"Well, Victorian England had the greatest wealth disparity between high and low for its time. I'm sure with inflation rates, America's outstripped the pace by now. Back in the !800's, London was something of a cesspit for crime, not too unlike our beloved Gotham. And if I remember right there's also an East End neighborhood in London, notorious for all kinds of criminal enterprises. That last point could be something of a reach though since it's not exactly uncommon to name neighborhoods after directional sections and -" He broke off when he noticed Lucius was watching him, a smile playing about his lips. "Oh, I was rambling, wasn't I?" 

"No," Lucius denied quickly then, "Okay, you were but that's fine. You certainly don't pass up opportunities to spread information."

Ed gave a sheepish grin. "Maybe I should have been a professor like you."

"Or an actor. I get the impression you would have liked to be up onstage with the rest of the cast." 

"Don't be silly," Ed said, turning his face away. Of course, Lucius wasn't far off the mark but his focus had to be on his own criminal endeavors, not fanciful excursions into theater life. 

Up ahead, the actors had reached their destination, a mid-sized bar and cafe. The troupe disappeared inside and Ed and Lucius followed, finding it thankfully, mostly empty. The troupe commandeered the tables closest to the door and Ed artfully separated himself and Lucius from their hubbub, choosing a solitary table further in the establishment. Ed sat with his back to the door and a waitress quickly came to take their orders. He asked for a beer and nachos, Lucius got french onion soup and pretzel breadsticks. Ed leaned against a nearby wall and asked Lucius, "So, you enjoyed the performance? 

"Absolutely. It seems to have defied your earlier expectations." 

Ed snapped his fingers energetically. "Good! Then let's talk about it. If I recall correctly, you did want to hear my thoughts on certain matters philosophical." 

Lucius smiled and sat up straighter and Ed was pleased to have his full attention. "So are we debating the ethics of cannibalism in Victorian London?" 

"We can get to that," Ed promised. "But first; who do you consider the villain of the story?" 

"I don't think there are any heroes in this tale. Turpin was a corrupt judge and Lovett and Todd are murderers. Oh, also the Beadle was an accomplice, Pirelli was a blackmailer, even the kid ends up being a murderer. The only real innocents were the young couple and Todd's wife." 

"The case could be made that Turpin is the source point of the entire conflict. Without his interference, Todd wouldn't have become a madman." 

"Ah," said Lucius. "As usual, you're looking for the source of the madness, the 'why' of it all. Most people would devote more time to prevention but its not like one can see murder and cannibalism coming. Our own city has been plagued by quite a few who dabbled in such unseemly practices."

"I'm glad you brought that up," Ed said. "You, of course, recall Professor Pyg who terrorized our fair city for a couple months a few years back. He had a similar modus operandi as Todd and similar feelings towards the ruling class who he felt abused their power. The two scenarios are fairly reflective." 

"The Pyg was a menace to everyone, highborn and low, alike. Todd was definitely a victim of a corrupt system but his rage wasn't directed at just the social elite. He killed whoever he came across with little regard after he had a clear psychotic break."

The waitress came and dropped off their drinks. While Ed took a sip of his beer, Lucius pressed on. "And," he continued, "If we're discussing the circumstances that lead up to crime, I'd pay closer attention to Mrs. Lovett because without _her_ interference, the whole thing wouldn't have expanded as it did. It was she who gave rise to the whole grisly endeavor. Without her suggestion, Todd might have just killed the Beadle and the Judge and been done with it." 

"I don't know how likely that is. She may have made the suggestion but I'll point out, she never actually kills or threatens anyone." 

"She just put the blade in his hand." 

Ed shrugged. "He made a choice." 

"She lied about his wife." 

"No, no, she never lied. Said she took the poison, she did, never said that she died," he responded with a smile as he quoted the play back at Lucius. 

"A lie of omission is still a lie, Edward." 

"What a Kantian way of thinking," Ed complained with a roll of his eyes. 

"Emmanuel Kant believed that lying was always wrong, no matter the circumstances. I wasn't speaking on the morality of lying by omission, just on the fact of it. I don't think it'd be possible to live in a society with absolute honesty. That is simply not human nature."

"What's the last lie of omission you've told?" Ed asked, curious to see how creative Lucius would be with his lying. 

Lucuis gave him a considering look. "Well, that's a very specific question. I'll give a broader response - I was raised in the church, which is pretty much a given down South. I have, of course, formed my own opinions since leaving home and I've done away with religion. To confess that would result in a headache that just isn't worth it. So when I visit home, I bite my tongue and visit church, even though I'd rather be anywhere but." 

Ed listened attentively, hungry for every crumb of his past Lucius chose to divulge. He still had to ascertain how his new friend was set on his lethal path. This seemed a good enough place to start. "So you no longer have religious inclinations." He leaned back in his seat, thought about that a moment. "Does it feel strange or foreign to be brought up to believe something and then to do away with it entirely in adulthood?" 

"I think," Lucius said carefully, "It never felt strange to me because God never came naturally to me as He did to those around me. What the religious call faith, men of science like you and I call foolishness. Still, I envy the comfort they can take from the idea of God. Sometimes, I wish it came as easily to me." 

"Does it come as easily to your siblings?" he asked and took another gulp of beer. 

Lucius gave a humorless chuckle. "Not at all. My brother's motto is 'go along to get along'. He generally just goes along with the crowd and doesn't make waves unless his pride is at stake. My sister is a total contrarian with an even worse aversion to mainstream religion than me." 

"Why so?" Ed wondered. 

Lucius rubbed at the back of his neck, somewhat sheepish and he hesitated slightly before speaking, "When we were teenagers, it came out that a local priest was having an inappropriate relationship with a girl in my sister's age group. When the gossip broke, the girl and her family were shunned and in that community, there was little worse than being a pariah. The priest was simply moved to another parish. When Trinity found out, she refused to go to church. She said the parishoners were hypocrites and the clergy were willing to look the other way and sweep the mess under a rug. She dug in her heels and it was like the Cold War in our house for half a year." 

"Was she punished?" Ed asked. "Hit?" 

"_No_," Lucius' response was swift with an adamant shake of his head. "We were never beaten. Of all of us, my mother's pride was greatest and she didn't believe in corporal punishment. In fact, she famously told anyone who'd listen that her children would never be beaten like fieldhands." Lucius winced slightly and rolled his eyes. "Obviously, she had a penchant for the dramatic." 

"Hm," Ed said quietly. "A sense of drama isn't always a bad thing," he commented and took a long pull of his beer. He felt an odd and distant sense of bitterness. He tried to imagine having a mother that defended her children half as fiercely rather than cower as blows rained down on them both. 

"She simply forbade her from going anywhere," Lucius continued answering Ed's question. "And for a social butterfly like her, it was practically torture not to go to the events of the season." 

"How did the Cold War break?" Ed asked. 

"My mother eventually gave in. She always said Trinity was the type to cut off her nose to spite her face but I always thought she just had the courage of her convictions. She could swallow the cost if she felt like she was in the wrong and our mother eventually left her to her own devices. To this day, Trin still considers that one of her great victories."

Ed smiled and the waitress returned at that moment with their appetizers and a second beer for Ed. He finished off what remained of his first before starting the new one. Across from him, he watched as Lucius tucked a napkin into his shirt and stirred his soup before blowing on it. He took a cautious sip and happened to glance up and catch Ed watching him. "What?" 

"Nothing," he said with a shrug. "I guess it's refreshing to see good manners. Living in a city like this...it can be missed." 

"Somehow I'm surprised such propriety holds weight with you." 

"Lucius, I'm a rogue, not an animal," Ed retorted then he scoffed. "My mother paid particular attention to good manners. I think she was trying desperately to keep me from following after my father. As if any amount of "please"s and "thank you"s could negate something like that." He rolled his eyes and reached for a nacho to chomp down on. 

Lucius followed his cue and they ate in relative silence before Lila reappeared, swishing her way between tables with two drinks held aloft. "Alright, fellas?" she called out as she approached, her London accent thickly applied. "We've got some extras over there so here ya go!" She set a mint-green drink down in front of Ed and a fiery red concoction in front of Lucius. 

"Thank you," Lucius said graciously, looking up at her. "But I'm driving tonight." 

Lila arched an eyebrow. "_Well._ Aren't you a responsible bloke." She reached for the drink but Ed stayed her hand. "What's in that?" he asked, nodding to the bloody drink. 

Lila grinned, shaking her head. "Like that matters," she said, dropping the stage accent. "Enjoy, loves." She gave them a fleeting wave then flitted off. 

Well, she wasn't wrong. He pulled the red drink nearer to him and sniffed it, catching the scent of vodka and fruit juice. He set it aside and took a mouthful of his signature green drink. 

"What actually is that?" Lucius asked, eyeing the drink suspiciously. 

"A grasshopper," Ed answered. "Creme de menthe, creme de cacao, and fresh cream. It's very good. Want a sip?" 

Lucius smirked and shook his head. "Maybe another time." 

"I'll hold you to that," Ed promised and took another sip. 

Lucius was watching him now with a particular focus then asked, "How goes your paper?" 

"It goes," Ed answered offhandedly with a shrug. "But let's leave off the shop talk. Tonight's not for that." 

"What is tonight for then?" Lucius asked coolly, his gaze on Ed dark and amused. 

Ed met his eyes firmly. "Getting to know one another," he answered. "Though I have you at a disadvantage since I've been asking all the questions. Perhaps my curiosity outweighs yours." 

"Perhaps you don't stop talking long enough to give someone else a chance," Lucius shot back. 

"Ah, touche!" Ed said, his eyebrows shooting up. "I'll be quiet so you can satisfy your raging queries." He took another sip of his drink and watched Lucius expectantly over the rim of his glass. 

Lucius chuckled then asked, "What made you come to Gotham?" 

"Ah, that's easy," he said, setting down his glass. "I just looked for the best forensic courses and G.U. was pretty high on the list. The city has always been somewhat notorious, even back then, so I guess the reputation of the place attracted me as well." 

"Was life not exciting enough for you back in…" Lucius trailed off with a lazy wave of his hand. 

"Pennsylvania," Ed supplied. "And it wasn't the lack of excitement that caused me to leave. Just a desire to be a new someone in a new place without the burden of the past dragging me down." 

"I can understand that," Lucius said softly. 

"My turn," Ed declared. He raised his glass and swirled the last of his drink as he considered his next question. "Do you get along with your brother and sister?" 

Lucius huffed out a breath and leaned back in his seat. He seemed annoyed and that interested Edward. "I get along with _them_ just fine," he said pointedly. "How either feels about me can wax or wane depending on the mood of the day." 

"Why do you say that?" Ed asked, watching him closely. 

"It's the truth," he said simply. He looked sheepish as he ran a hand back over his neat hair and appeared to carefully choose his words. "You remember I mentioned my mother has a particular penchant for shaping things to her desire?" When Ed nodded, he continued. "Well, part of her plan was to have two children, one boy and one girl. I was fortunate enough to be born first and born male and that's somewhat solidified my place as my mother's favorite. Lamont was born next and his not being female made him somewhat -" Here Lucius winced delicately, "-superfluous in our mother's eye. When he was little, he loved me a lot more," he said and Ed was struck by how wistful he sounded. "By the time he was twelve he was already sick of living in my shadow so he went out of his way to be the opposite of me in every way. Couldn't blame him for that. We're good now as adults but growing up felt like always being in competition." 

"And your sister?" 

He gave a humorless chuckle. "She had a lot more restrictions on her growing up than we boys and that harbored a lot of resentfulness. Combine that with my mother's traditional expectations of gender, both of their unyielding natures, a culture built on appearances and pretense - all of which led to Trinity to reject a lot of her upbringing and make a break for it, not long after I did." 

Ed chuckled. "So you have the two rebels and you, the good son." 

"That's how it ended up shaking out," he said with a shrug. "The first must set the example. But that doesn't mean the others will fall in line." 

"You sound disappointed," he observed.

"I am," he replied honestly. "I was raised to care about their wellbeing. 'A man must care for his family or he can't call himself a man'. An idiom of my father's who had many standards on what qualified one as a man and as a gentleman. I took his lessons to heart so I take it a little personal when my siblings get off track." 

"You feel responsible for them." 

Lucius gave him a strained smile. "That oldest child syndrome hits hard. I have known for years that when my father passes, I will be the sole patriarch of my family. Coming to grips with those expectations is a work in progress." 

"Fascinating," Ed said softly and Lucius blinked in surprise. "Before," he elaborated. "I always kind of wished I had a sibling. Someone to share in the bad times, you know. But you've made the whole thing sound terribly unattractive. I'm beginning to recognize my own good fortune." 

Lucius scoffed then asked, "You didn't have cousins? Any family in your age group?" 

"Nope," he answered flippantly, taking a swallow of grasshopper. "Dad had a brother, maybe two, if I remember right but neither had kids, as far as I know. And my mother is an only child, come to the country when she was two." 

"Where from?" Lucius asked. 

"Germany," he answered. "Never met my grandparents but she used to tell stories about them, taught me a little German that I continued learning after college."

"What else can you speak?"

"Spanish, Italian, some intermediate French, couple phrases in Russian." His smile grew sly as he looked over at Lucius. "And Klingon." 

"You cannot speak Klingon," Lucius said in disbelief, laughing. 

"I can but if I go long enough I start to forget it."

"What possible real world application is there to that?"

Ed shrugged. "Hitting on hot Trekkers at sci-fi conventions?" 

While Lucius laughed, Ed finished the last of his green drink and started on the red, admiring how Lucius looked when he smiled and particularly liking how much Lucius had chosen to divulge. Yes, the information was important in learning more about Lucius' self but it also meant he trusted Ed, to a certain degree, enough to share familial tales. 

"What languages can you speak?" he asked, sending the ball back into Lucius' court. 

"I grew up speaking Creole," he said. "Later learned French. Poor Spanish, basic Chinese, some Arabic. Oh and Latin," he added as an afterthought. 

"You're laughing at me and you know _Latin_?" Ed pointed out. "How'd you even learn that?" __

_ __ _

_ __ _

"I taught myself," he asserted. "It was high school and I had time." 

He scoffed lightly. "How does Creole even sound?" 

"_Tankou nenpòt ki lang etranje,_" Lucius answered then shook his head. "God, my pronunciation's grown terrible."

"What did you say?" Ed asked, entranced by the unfamiliar dance of syllables. 

"I said, it sounds like any foreign language," he answered. "Though it's absolutely butchered without proper pronunciation and accent. I need to practice with Trinity more." 

"Are you Haitian as well?" Ed asked. "I know that many expatriates from Haiti ended up in Lousiana." 

Lucius smiled, impressed by his knowledge. "It's likely but I couldn't say with certainty. No documentation exists before my grandfather's time. He passed when I was ten and before then, Grandfather Fox was not the talkative type."

Ed smiled, sipping the last of his drink. "Your family tree just grows more interesting." 

They stayed chatting, trading lines, for some time. Ed had consumed another grasshopper and was being delightfully tipsy. By the time, Lila and the rest of the acting troupe departed, he figured he should do the same. 

"Seems like the night’s winded down," Lucius said, reaching the same conclusion. "Shall we settle up?" 

Ed beckoned for the waitress and when she came, he handed off a credit card for her to run. "My treat," Ed said, smiling lazily at Lucius. "And you have no say in it since I'm the one who extended the invite." 

Lucius arched an eyebrow but didn't object. "As you wish, Edward." 

He turned away to hide his grin. 

When the waitress reappeared, Ed stood and instantly wobbled. He kept his balance and noticed Lucius watching him. 

"Alright?" he asked, moving to Ed's side

Ed gave him a lazy grin. "Right as rain," he said as he teetered slightly. 

Lucius shook his head then reached a hand out to Edward. "Look at me," he said and Ed shivered slightly at the quiet command in his words. When he didn't immediately obey, he felt Lucius' hand on the back of his neck, guiding him to look into Lucius' dark eyes. He wanted to look bright and alert but the alcohol had dulled him enough that Lucius' quiet presence lulled him into a sense of security. He wanted to close the small distance between them and press his mouth to Lucius' but before he could act on that impulse, the target of his affection was releasing his hold over him. 

"You've had a bit much," Lucius said and though his tone was casual, Ed detected just a hint of disapproval. 

He shot Lucius a charming smile. "This is true. Could I trouble you for a drop off?" 

Lucius gave him a stern look but quickly acquiesced. "Fine, let's go." 

They exited the bar. With Ed looking quite unsteady on his feet, Lucius tried to steady him with one arm crossing his back to hold him up. Ed immediately slipped his arm over Lucius' shoulder and leaned his weight on him. 

"Mind your step," Lucius warned, tightening his hold. 

"Aren’t you supposed to be looking out for me?" Ed teased, batting his eyes, and was rewarded with a firm squeeze, the feel of Lucius' fingers pressing into his side. 

"Keep talking mess and I'll drop you," Lucius warned. 

They made it the few blocks to where Lucius had parked his car and climbed into the vehicle. As he’d expected, it was devoid of mess, clutter, and foreign smells. "You just drive this off the lot," Ed questioned as Lucius slid into the driver’s seat. 

"Four years ago, actually," Lucius corrected. "Put your seatbelt on." 

Grinning, Ed did as he was told. 

The distance to his place was not great. He filled the short ride, humming and singing various tunes from the night's play. Beside him, Lucius' fingers drummed against the steering wheel, keeping in beat with him. 

"Speak to me, friend," he sang. "Whisper, I'll listen. I know. I know you've been locked out of sight all these years. Like me, my friend. Well, I've come home to find you waiting. Home...and we're together. And we'll do wonders. Won't we?"

"You have a nice voice, Edward," Lucius complimented once he'd trailed off.

"Thanks," he replied, giving him a smirk. "I take it singing's not one of your skills."

"You'd be right. I'm more likely found on the dancefloor than the stage."

"Oh, you _dance_, Lucius?" Ed asked, unable to keep the delight from his voice. 

"Only if no one's watching," Lucius said back.

They rode on and arrived at their destination in minutes. When they pulled up to the building, Ed let his head loll to the side and gave Lucius a lazy smile. "Would you be so kind as to escort me up, Lucius?" 

Lucius gave him a mild look. "I don't quite think you're _that_ out of sorts, Edward." 

"No, I'm not," he agreed. "However, it would be the gentlemanly thing to do." 

Invoking Lucius' sense of honor did the trick. He shut off the car and Ed climbed out, tottering slightly as he headed up the sidewalk. He tripped slightly as Lucius came up beside him and once again offered his arm to keep him on his feet. 

"Do me a favor and don't fall over," Lucius advised as his hand settled at Ed's side. 

Jovially, he threw his arm across Lucius' shoulders and pulled him close. He had to really keep his composure when he felt the warmth of Lucius' body pressed into his side. "I think you're strong enough to keep me up," he reassured as he sought Lucius' gaze. Their eyes met and Ed knew he registered the innuendo in his words but chose not to comment. He resisted the urge to pout; he would just have to offer another bit of bait. 

They made their way, half-embraced, into Ed's building, and Lucius used his free hand to summon the elevator. Ed huffed a deep breath and straightened up. His body sensed that bed was not far off and he felt a sweeping sense of exhaustion. 

He approached his front door and unlocked it, pulling the heavy sliding door open. He'd left the tableside lamp on so the interior was dimly lit. The sign outside of his skylights burned bright green as usual, offering more illumination. Ed hung his keys on a nearby wall hook and trudged into the apartment, leaving Lucius to slide the door shut behind them. His place was smaller than Lucius', without the barrier of walls to create rooms. He saw Lucius' curious eyes taking the place in and he smiled, moving into the kitchen. "Feel free to look around," he suggested. 

While he rummaged in the fridge, he heard Lucius exclaim in surprise. "Is this an actual antique? It looks like something my father owned." 

Ed glanced over his shoulder to see Lucius admiring his record player. He'd been teased in the past for owning it, called a hipster, but he genuinely enjoyed the sound quality of old school records, especially at home. "It's not as old as some pieces of equipment but I do have to tinker with it a bit to make sure it keeps working. You can play something if you like." 

While Lucius flicked through his choice of records, Ed retrieved a beer, uncapped it, and walked into the bathroom, taking a sip. He set his beer on the windowsill before facing off with the toilet and beginning to relieve himself. Through the drunken swirl of his thoughts, he realized he had Lucius in his apartment, in prime position for some fun. He wondered what it would take to pull Lucius into a game. 

He flushed and washed his hands, dried them quickly, before retrieving his beer and exiting the room. Lucius had chosen a record and a low, jaunty jazz beat filled the room. He was in the kitchen now, rummaging through the fridge, when Ed entered. 

"Did you want something?" he asked, leaning against the door frame, watching Lucius with a smile. 

"It's for you actually," Lucius replied. He grabbed a water bottle off the fridge door and held it out to Edward. "That's better than beer for you." 

"Hmm." Ed gave him a lingering look before he shrugged and moved around Lucius into the kitchen, taking a sip as he did so. "But I think I'd prefer the beer," he said nonchalantly. 

Lucius gave him a stern look that put an unexpected thrill in Ed's heart. "You'll be hungover tomorrow if you don't drink water." 

"Are you my self-appointed caretaker now?" he asked with a note of challenge in his voice. 

Lucius picked up on his defiance. While Ed slouched against the countertop, Lucius rose to his full height and faced him with but a few inches separating them. His manner was too mild to be intimidating and yet, even through his drunkenness, Ed could see the danger of the moment, the threat that Lucius kept carefully under wraps, bubbling up to the surface. At _his_ prodding. 

How magnificent. 

"I did make a promise," Lucius reminded Ed. "To Miss Lila, that I would keep you in line. And as a gentleman, you know it's important I keep my promise." 

This kind of talk excited Ed. He couldn't help that he slurred a little in his haste when he asked, voice slightly raised, "And I'm to abide being commanded in my own home?"

Lucius exhaled softly and closed his eyes briefly. "As much as you cherish the penchant for drama, I think you can calm down now." At the end of his sentence, Lucius moved faster than Ed could react. His right hand latched onto Ed's wrist, holding him in place, while his left swiftly snatched the beer bottle out of his hand. 

"Hey," Ed protested, attempting to straighten up but Lucius was ready for him. Ed was languid and thus compliant. As he rose, Lucius reached out, pressing his hand into Ed's chest and forcing the man to spin around. And then, with Ed properly disoriented, Lucius pressed the water bottle into his hand and took a swig of his beer. Ed simply stood there, staring stunned at the water in his hand. 

"Stop being difficult," Lucius said, his tone both calm and authoritative. "And take a drink." 

Ed was still for a few seconds more before he slowly, silently, uncapped the water bottle and took full, generous swallows. 

Lucius smiled. "There. That wasn't so hard, right?" 

Ed rolled his eyes, turning away to hide his pout and moved past Lucius to his bed. He dropped onto his bed with a huff, spreading his arms against the comforter. He sighed in contentment, instantly relaxed amongst the comfort of his own bed. He heard Lucius moving about but stubbornly chose to keep his eyes closed. Even when he felt him near enough to be standing over the bed. His petulance was quickly forgotten however when Lucius spoke next. 

"You should take off your pants." 

Ed's eyes popped open and he quickly propped himself up on his elbows. Lucius was standing directly before him, cavalier as you please, at the foot of his bed, casually finishing off the rest of Ed's beer. His demeanor was so calm, Ed feared for a moment that he'd misheard. 

"I - what?" he asked, grimacing at his own lack of eloquence. 

"You should take off your pants," Lucius repeated. "Your vest too." 

Ed's mouth had gone dry and he had to hide how the words struck a particular kind of hope in him. Not an easy task since his crotch was pointed directly at Lucius. Still, he cleared his throat, stalling for time. "Why, exactly?" he asked. 

Lucius tilted his head and gave him a mild look. "Because if you don't you'll fall asleep and you shouldn't sleep in your clothes." 

"Oh." Ed did not expect the feeling of disappointment to drop into his stomach nor could he have anticipated how strongly he'd wanted his misconstrued idea of Lucius' words to be true. "Right, of course." He took another quick swig of water, to hide his embarrassment, before setting aside his water and beginning to fumble at his buttons. Lucius moved away and Ed could hear him in the kitchen, tossing out the empty beer bottle, before crossing into the bathroom. 

"Do you have aspirin in here?" Lucius called out. Ed heard him opening the medicine cabinet above the sink. 

"Third row," he replied as he battled his way out of his vest. "Right hand side." 

He stood up and was unbuttoning his pants when Lucius reappeared, aspirin bottle in hand. He set it down on the nightstand and caught Ed's eyes just as Ed lowered his zipper and pulled his pants down past his hips. Lucius watched him strip with little change to his expression and when he finally divested himself of his clothes, Lucius held out his hand impassively to take them. Ed watched, transfixed, as Lucius made his way to his armoire in search of a hanger. It was a kind gesture but not the one he'd wanted and trying to keep his erection from showing was both painful and futile. 

He flopped back into bed with a irritated huff, rolling to obscure the more obvious parts of himself. "You have all the serenity of a monk, Lucius," he complained. "Must you always be so composed?" 

"It _is_ a habit of mine," he commented as he hung up Ed's clothes. "Are you trying to fluster me?" 

"Maybe a little," he admitted. _And you're turning it back on me,_ he thought sullenly. He yawned a bit and threw one lazy hand behind his head. "You remain the picture of the perfect gentleman." 

His eyes closed once again, he heard Lucius' movement before he saw him and only opened his eyes when he felt the added weight of Lucius sitting on his bed. His expression, when their eyes met, was shrewd. "You make it sound as though you _want_ to be taken advantage of. Could it be that you've intentionally put yourself in a compromised state?" 

Ed's grin was lackadaisical. "Surely not, Lucius! That would be quite manipulative of me." 

Lucius' eyes on him were serious and some of his levity faded away. "I wonder if I can believe that," Lucius said softly. Ed saw his gaze lower down his face, settle on his mouth, and he licked his lips unconsciously. Lucius might have misread the gesture though for he stood suddenly. 

"I've had fun," he stated. "And now that you're delivered home safe, I must be going." He turned as though to move away and Ed reacted without thinking, his hand shooting out to take hold of Lucius' wrist. 

"Stay," he said softly. His eyes met Lucius' and he pitched the best 'puppy dog eyes' he could while his thumb gently ran over the pulse point in Lucius' wrist. "Stay the night." 

There was a pause, an electrically charged moment passed between them, and then to Ed's supreme disappointment, Lucius replied gently, "No." 

Ed couldn't hide his exasperation as he released his hold on Lucius with a frustrated groan and let his head drop onto his pillow. He laid there with his eyes closed, trying to calm the churn of emotions in him when he felt a gentle tugging at his glasses and opened his eyes as they were lifted from his face. 

Lucius had removed them, leaning over him to do so, so close that Ed could see the smoothness of Lucius' skin, smell the aroma of his fine cologne. This close, he could see the whites of Lucius' eyes and saw his dark pupils dilate as he took in Ed's face. 

"Don't confuse my restraint for disinterest," Lucius said, his voice low. One of Lucius' hands hovered over Ed's face and Ed felt the wild, desperate urge for contact, the desire to be caressed and cared for. He was sure that yearning was showing on his face, no matter how he should strive to hide it. 

There was no hiding it anymore; Lucius had undone him. Without drama or fanfare, he had Ed whining for compliments and soft touches and on the brink of begging for it. 

Lucius carefully folded Ed’s glasses and set them on the nightstand. Then he spoke in a calm, measured tone to Ed. 

"When I spend the night with a person, I prefer them to be in full command of their faculties," he explained. "I do not allow the lines of consent to become blurred or dubious." 

Ed blinked, feeling somewhat impressed. Control freak was an apt descriptor for Lucius; it seemed he did everything to control as much of his life as he could. He was not capricious, no hint of impulsivity, so different from Ed's own nature it was hard for him to relate. But he did understand the need for control and the more he realized its importance to Lucius, the more he wanted to pull the rug out from under him. 

He let none of these insights show on his face. Instead, he dropped his head back to the pillows and curled up, giving the barest whimper of distress. Lucius chuckled and put his hand on Ed’s back, began rubbing in small, circular motions. It was the bare minimum of what he wanted and still he felt shivers running up his spine from Lucius' touch. 

"Take your aspirin," Lucius instructed. "Drink the rest of your water and get your rest. I'll text you in the morning to see how you've fared." 

"Yes _sir_," Ed quipped with just a hint of recalcitrance. 

Lucius snorted lightly but then he leaned down and placed a kiss on the side of Ed's head, quick as can be, and stood before Ed could start to yearn for more. 

"Thank you for the invite," he said formally though he smiled with an easy air. "I had a lovely night." 

Ed shook his head slightly at Lucius' impeccable manners but he could not begrudge the man for his nature nor would he act any less of a gentleman in turn. "The pleasure of your company is always appreciated, Lucius," he replied and gave a short bow of his head accompanied by a flourish of his wrist. 

He rolled over, settled into the mattress, and listened as Lucius let himself out. The alcohol and the excitement of the night was already beginning to overtake him. He'd expected some vigorous masturbation after Lucius departed but his body wanted sleep more than it did release. He left himself alone and drifted into unconsciousness, wishing that Lucius was laid beside him, in accompaniment to the world of dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me hear any comments you have.


	7. A Murderous Methodology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An assignment rolls in and Lucius has a new target to eliminate. Unbeknownst to him, there are a few eyes carefully tracking his progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mentions of pedophilia, child sex abuse, and vulgar language.

Lucius awakened Saturday morning feeling well rested and content. 

His impromptu date with Edward Nygma the night before had been an exceedingly pleasant excursion. He was not the most social of men - he had a full calendar balancing Trinity and Tatiana, his two jobs, and finding some time to carve out for personal pursuits. But he was not often found on dates. It was an uncommon outing and he’d liked it more than he would have expected. Edward was a man of charisma and intellect and seeing him decked out and adorned made him that much more alluring to Lucius. He’d watched, closely and silently, as Ed downed drink after drink in the midst of their conversation and didn’t comment. His suspicion that Ed was getting drunk and purposefully entering a compromised state did not seem far off the mark. It seemed he used his inebriation as a point of vulnerability in order to get Lucius where he wanted him, i.e. into his home. That Lucius hadn't risen to the bait was of little consequence. 

Because he had wanted to. Listening to Ed's belligerence, seeing his helpless flails had made Lucius want to take him firmly in hand, press him down into his soft bed and take what was so willingly offered. But he refrained because matters such as these required time and finesse to bring them to fruition, not impulsive, reactive stumbling. So as much as Ed's yearning looks compelled him to take a taste, he retained his sense of politesse. All things would come in time and only at his allowance. 

Lying in bed, Lucius let his thoughts drift to Ed and how fine he’d looked, how magnetic. The man was a whirlwind of energy and Lucius found himself captivated. When he’d had Ed pushed up against the counters of his kitchen, he’d wanted to press himself to the taller man and crush their lips together. The fact that Ed had been practically begging for it only served to arouse him more. When he invited Lucius to spend the night, it had taken a concentrated amount of resilience to turn him down even though it looked effortless. He imagined Ed's expressive eyes gazing up at him after being commanded to his knees and he felt a shiver of desire. That situation was going to come to a head soon. He couldn’t speak for Ed but he knew he was reaching the limits of his restraint. 

But until that moment came, he couldn’t stay in bed all day. He’d be spending the day with Tatiana so he needed to get up and tend to himself. He started his morning with a quick workout then hopped in the shower. After washing himself, he wandered into the kitchen in his underclothes. T'challa was resting on the couch directly in a beam of sunlight but when he heard Lucius enter the kitchen, he roused himself to join his master. Lucius replaced the cat’s food and water before seeing to his own hunger. He was not a skilled cook nor did he have the patience for it so he set two eggs to boil and put two slices of bread in the toaster. While he waited for his food, he watered his plants, and once that was done, sat on the couch. He toyed with the phone in his hand for a moment before deciding to text Ed. 

_Hope you've recovered. Let me know you're okay._

The reply came a minute later - _Recovery Pending_ \- accompanied by a picture of Ed. He was sat up in bed, shirtless and red-eyed and looking performatively miserable for the camera. Lucius smiled wide at the sight of his sleep tousled curls and decided he would definitely save this snapshot. 

_Were you just looking for a reason to send a selfie?_ he sent back.

_Quit calling me out. Don't you know better than to kick a guy when he’s down?_

_I think a better ‘kick’ would be me pointing out that you're the architect of your own current misery._

_See how cruel you are?_

Lucius rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help smiling as he imagined Ed pouting with all his adorable indignation. His eyes drank in Ed's photo, admiring the litheness of his body, skinny but not altogether scrawny. Probably fun to wrestle with and given Ed's playful nature, he was sure he could orchestrate that situation into reality.

He texted back, _Drink some Gatorade and rest some more. You’ll be right as rain._

_You could bring me some ;)_

_Negative,_ Lucius replied. _I am previously engaged for the day._

_With Tatiana?_

_Yes,_ he answered, willing to let the nosiness slide. He was starting to get used to Ed's penetrating personality. And if they were - as Ed so eloquently put it - getting to know one another than a few questions had to be abided. 

_Give the little Fox a riddle from me. It can be cracked. It can be made. It can be told. It can be played. What is it?_

Lucius toyed with his phone again, biting back a smirk before he sent - _If you're good and you do as you've been told, I promise to pass along the message._

The three bouncing dots that represented typing appeared and disappeared in rapid fire fashion, a quick three times, making Lucius laugh. Ed was a smooth talker but Lucius was honing the art of knocking him off balance.

_‘Good’ is subjective. Haven’t I told you that?_ Followed quickly by, _Regardless, I’ll take that deal._

_Wonderful. And the answer to your riddle is a joke._

_:D_

He smiled - and was then distracted by the pot bubbling over on the stove. 

He set aside his phone and continued preparing for the day. He ate his breakfast swiftly and then dressed before starting his drive to the Upper East Side. It was a short distance and good traffic so he didn’t expect the trip to take more than a half hour. As he sat at a red light, he heard the buzzing sound of vibration coming from his glove compartment. He leaned over to open it and retrieved the source of the noise; a matte black burner flip phone, the one he used for his illegal dealings. He flipped the phone open and saw a message from an unsaved number:

_Special new assignment in. Are you available for work?_

This was how he received news of potential new hits. Fish, or someone who worked for her, sent out the alerts. They were typically short and vague as this new message but this one was slightly different. Normally the wording was "New assignment in" so the special was somewhat noteworthy. Lucius would have ordinally refused; he had dispatched Travers only a few short weeks ago. Increasing his frequency would only increase his visibility but he couldn’t just ignore the particular phrasing. 

_Will inform later,_ he texted back and drove on. 

Not a minute later the reply emerged: _12 hours._

Another peculiarity. He did not know Fish to be so insistent for a reply that she’d sent a deadline. He wasn’t the only killer on her payroll, after all. He could not deny his curiosity was stirred but he had twelve hours to answer her call. Until then, Tatiana was his focus. 

After a short drive, he pulled up in front of his sister’s house and climbed out. He was walking up the path to the porch when the front door jerked open and Tatiana stood, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. She still wore her pajamas and her hair was only half done - the left side in a single snaking braid going down her back, the right side combed out in its natural state, a half-fro extending up to the sky. 

Blaring music sounded behind her but he could hear her shout all the same. "Uncle Lucius, catch me!" Tatiana demanded before taking a running leap off the porch and jumping straight as a cannonball right at Lucius. 

He quickly opened his arms and allowed her to hit him in the chest before wrapping his arms around her to keep her from falling. "Why aren’t you dressed, baby girl?" Lucius asked as he cradled her to him and they climbed the stairs. 

Tatiana giggled as she smiled up at him. "Because Mama woke up late," she revealed. 

Lucius crossed the threshold and set Tatiana down before shutting the door behind him. Directly to his left was the closet which he opened and began hanging his jacket. To the right was the dining room, next to it the stairs leading to the bedrooms, and in front of him the expansive living room. His sister was there, amidst a clutter, folding a heavy blanket. 

"Hi Lucius," she called distractedly. "You," she said, nodding at Tatiana. "Keep picking up these toys." 

Tatiana went to obey her mother and Lucius entered into the living room, thick with smoke. The smell was incense or sage or some other cloying scent that would cling to him and overpower his cologne. Lucius hated the stuff but it was a staple for his sister who practiced a kind of occultish spirituality. Trinity was as unprepared as Tatiana, still in her sleep clothes, hair wrapped under a silk turban, face make-up free. She set aside the blanket and kissed Lucius' cheek before continuing her cleaning spree. Lucius dropped into his armchair, grabbed the stereo remote and lowered the music so that they didn’t have to shout to hear one another. 

"You throw a party in here or what?" he asked, surveying the living room as he idly waved his hand to clear away some of the smoke. He pressed a button on the remote and the ceiling fan began to spin, swirling the heavy smell around.

"We stayed up late watching movies!" Tatiana volunteered as she bounced around the room, collecting her toys and dolls from where they’d fallen. "We watched all of the Hunger Games." 

"That movie where the kids kill each other in a death match?"

"Yep!" 

"And now," Trinity interjected as she stacked the bedding and pillows. "We’re running late. Once those toys are put away, get dressed," she said to Tatiana. "I still have to finish your hair. Hur-ry-up!" She punctuated each syllable with a clap of her hands and Tatiana laughed before racing upstairs with her toys in hand. 

"What’s the big rush?" Lucius asked, watching his sister move back and forth. "The botanical garden’s open all day, we can go at any time."

Trinity suddenly came to a stop and heaved a sigh. She placed down the bedding she carried and set one fist on her cocked hip. "Change of plans," she said deftly. "Tati’s dance group is meeting today for practice. They have a competition coming up in a few weeks." 

"How long is practice supposed to be?" Lucius asked, glancing at his wrist. 

"Four hours," Trinity answered. "Starting at 1 o clock." 

It was a quarter to twelve at the moment. "That's pretty much the whole day," he complained. "When was practice set?" 

Trinity heaved a sigh as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Last week. I...forgot to mark it." 

Lucius shot her an annoyed look. "Come on, Trin, how hard is it to write down your appointments? That's what you have a Google Calendar for." 

She blew out an exasperated breath, nostrils flared, and tossed her head. "Don't bust my balls, Lucius, I got busy! Will you drop her off at practice today, please? Y’all can visit the gardens another time." 

He resisted his own impulse to roll his eyes. His sister was not the most focused and she had a tendency to be scatter-brained. He was used to it after a childhood of her missing items, undone homework, and forgotten appointments but he hoped she would make some headway in keeping her life in better order. 

He chose to keep his admonishments to himself. He knew what he considered helpful advice would easily be misconstrued as a personal attack and an attempt at control. Trinity was the most stubborn person he knew; she bucked at the slightest idea of someone commanding her. So he didn’t try. "Fine. But please remember next time, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed quickly and flashed him a conciliatory smile. She collected a stack of bowls and glasses and held them out to Lucius. "Make yourself useful and load the dishwasher, _wi_?" 

He ignored her attempts to get under his skin and carried the dishes into the kitchen. 

Trinity quickly got the living room looking decent and Lucius loaded the dishwasher to capacity and started the wash cycle. Tatiana came skipping down the stairs, dressed and ready save for her hair. Trinity dropped onto the couch with a low breath and Tatiana rolled over the back of the couch, into her lap. Mother and daughter shared a private smile before Tatiana took her place, sitting on the floor between Trinity’s knees. Trinity retrieved a comb and a jar of product and began raking her fingers through Tatiana’s hair. 

Lucius used the remote to turn the TV on to the news and watched Trinity work. "What are you getting up to today?" he asked. 

"Basic stuff," she muttered as her hands moved. "Gotta do laundry, grocery shop, and clean up this damn house." 

Lucius cast a sly eye about. The house was well-tidied, to his eye. But, like him, he knew Trinity operated by their mother’s sense of order. An extra layer was added for Trinity simply by cause of her gender. Their mother believed a woman’s domain was her home, the main area and source of her control; a chaotic home suggested an ill character of the woman who inhabited it. She rejected some of the more outlandish and outdated ideas about gender but some habits were harder to shake than others. 

He glanced at Tatiana who was reaching for her Nintendo Switch to play. "You know our plans have changed, sweetie?" 

"Yeah, I’ve got dance practice today," she said easily as she tilted her head back so Trinity could begin to braid. 

"Oh and here I thought you wanted to spend the day with your loving uncle but you certainly sound alright!" 

"No, Uncle Lucius," she protested with a smile. "I wanna go to the garden still but this is important too. We have to practice if we’re gonna win our competition." 

"I know," he said, smiling back. "I'm only teasing. We can go another weekend." 

"Can we get ice cream after practice?" Tatiana asked excitedly. 

"Just you and me?" he asked. "Or you trying to bring all your little friends?" 

"Just you and me," she assured quickly. 

Trinity was done braiding in about ten minutes and she finished the look by rolling the braids into Princess Leia-style buns. Lucius glanced at his watch. "Let’s get a move on." 

"Leave your Switch at home," Trinity advised as she got up and began clearing the sofa off. 

Tatiana pouted briefly before leaving the game console between the couch cushions and running off for her shoes. 

"It’s the usual spot at Kalia’s house," Trinity said to Lucius. "If you need anything, just call me." 

Lucius smiled and gave her a short salute. "Yes ma’am." 

They were on the road minutes later. Tatiana buckled herself into the passenger side seat and settled in while she hummed/mumbled a soft and somewhat eerie song. “Are you, are you, coming to the tree? They strung up a man they say who murdered three. Strange things did happen here. No stranger would it be, if we met at midnight by the hanging tree.” 

“What a morbid little song,” Lucius commented. “Did you make that up?” 

“Nope. It’s a song Katniss sings in the Hunger Games. Me and Ma watched all three movies. The ending is kind of happy but mostly sad.” As she spoke, she was reaching for her backpack and withdrawing a new book. 

He glanced at the cover out of the corner of his eye. A pretty Black girl with two braids in a military uniform held a curved blade in front of a backdrop of the American flag. The title in slanted, golden font read Dread Nation. 

“Did I buy you that one?” 

“Mama did. Last week when we went to the mall. She thought it might be too grown up for me but she read it first and said it was okay.” 

“What’s it about?” he asked, checking his rearview and carefully changing lanes. 

“It’s historical fiction. It reimagines the Civil War being interrupted by a zombie apocalypse! And so the Battle between States doesn’t happen and instead Black and Native kids train to be zombie killers.” She ran one hand over the sleek cover and continued to gush. “The main character’s name is Jane McKeene and she’s _so/_ cool. She kills the most zombies out of all the other girls and she’s the smartest in all of her classes.”__

_ __ _

_ __ _

“So zombie killing and hanging songs,” Lucius commented. “Should I be worried that your interests are turning towards the macabre?” 

“_Um_, didn’t you work for the police looking at dead bodies and such?” she rebuked him quickly. 

He chuckled lightly. “_Um_, I’m a grown man. And my past employment is no concern of yours, young one.” 

“Oh, so I have to be grown before I can like weird stuff?” she said with a smirk. “Too late, I’m getting started early.” 

Lucius laughed and shook his head. “You’re a mess.” He suddenly remembered Edward’s message from earlier. “Maybe you’ll like this. I have a riddle for you, delivered at the request of one Mr. Nygma.” 

“Oooh.” She straightened up quickly at the mention of Edward. “I love riddles. What is it?” 

“It can be cracked. It can be made. It can be told. It can be played. What is it?” Lucius expertly recited. 

Tatiana’s face immediately scrunched up in thought. “I’m gonna get this one,” she promised as she hunkered down to think. 

Lucius left her to her thought process and focused on the road. His thoughts wandered to after he’d dropped Tatiana off. He’d have a few hours free so maybe he’d check in with Fish and see about this mysterious new assignment. Yes, that would do. 

He pulled up to the curb as he entered the Bryerstown housing complex. The neighborhood was clearly a few tiers below the Upper East Side. It had all the hallmarks of a ghetto including the crumbling infrastructure and unsavory characters dotting the landscape. But they didn’t have far to go. He walked with Tatiana to the building where her dance instructor lived and worked. She taught about thirty girls between six and fourteen years old in the art of hip hop. There were a few competitions held between the dance crews of Gotham.

When they approached, he could see the instructor, Kalia, a buxom woman of twenty-seven, conversing with another dance mom. When she spotted them, she perked up and waved. 

“Hey Tati!” Her voice carried. 

Tatiana immediately broke from his side and ran to hug her instructor. Kalia returned the embrace with a kiss on her forehead. “You ready to work, girl? We’ve got so much to practice.” 

“I’m ready!” Tatiana said loudly, clenching her fists. 

“Okay, run inside then. Some of the other girls are already doing their stretches.” 

Tatiana spun and hugged him quickly around the waist. “Bye, Uncle Lucius, see you later!” she trilled quickly before racing into the building. 

“Well, looks like I’m no longer needed,” he said with a nod to the two women. 

“Don’t say that,” Kalia scolded gently. “She’s just excited is all. Anyway, practice will be done by five o’ clock so you can swing by then to pick her up.” 

“Sounds good,” Lucius agreed before stepping away. 

With Tatiana squared away for the time being, Lucius aimed his car downtown to Mooney’s Nightclub. 

After parking his car down the block, Lucius slipped into the alleyway between the nightclub and the adjacent building and went to the service entrance where he knocked three times. The door creaked open and a pallid blonde boy with a thin face poked his head out suspiciously. He said nothing, just gave Lucius a quick up and down, scanned the alley behind him, and moved aside to allow him entry. 

Lucius went down the corridor and climbed the steps that would lead to Mooney’s office. He let himself in through the side door and emerged in her lavishly furnished personal office. Just as quickly, Fish Mooney herself was entering in through the main door. She was dressed to the nines in shiny black leather pants, stiletto heels, and a navy blue blouse that wrapped around her torso, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. A giant diamond graced one of her middle fingers and she wore a spiky metal collar of shining silver. 

"Lucius," she declared, opening her arms to him. He accepted the hug and the light kiss on the cheek she gave him. "How are you, dear?" 

"Very good, Fish, thank you," he replied in turn. "I hope you are as well." 

"Oh, work never ends in this town," she said with a smile. "As long as I'm in business, I'm happy." 

He nodded in agreement then asked, "What, may I ask, is so special about this new assignment?" 

Fish clapped her hands together with a nod. "Absolutely, right to business." She cleared her throat and reached into her desk to retrieve a folder. "The client that specified the target requested an elevated level of discretion so of course, I thought you most appropriate. They request that from the moment of acceptance, you have ten days to eliminate the target." 

Lucius blinked in surprise. "Ten days? Did the client say why this was so urgent?" 

Fish pressed down the folder with the tips of her fingers. "They composed this dossier for whoever takes the job." She slid the folder across to him but before she lifted her hand, she looked him in the eye and said lowly, "The contents are not pleasant." 

Thoroughly interested now, Lucius picked up the folder and opened it. It hardly seemed worth all the fanfare. He felt only a few sparse sheets of paper. The first had the picture of the target and some basic information. His name was Garrett Mackey, 31, Caucasian, brown-haired, somewhat handsome in the basic way he’d seen in many young Wayne executives. Lucius scanned his information that let him know where the man lived but little else. 

He flipped to the next sheet of paper. There were about twelve children pictured there, all aged between age six and ten, boys and girls, various races, wearing swimsuits, pajamas, dresses, and some costumes. This was innocuous to him. It wasn’t until the next page that he understood what he held. The next page had the same number of pictures but the children here were a few years older, between eleven and fifteen, and the nature of the photos couldn’t be ignored. These kids, almost all girls, were glammed up with lip gloss, teased hair and provocative clothing and posed suggestively. His eyes went wide, taking in the entire sordid image. There was no nudity but dear God, it wasn’t far off. 

He shut the folder swiftly as his stomach rolled in disgust. "What the _fuck_," he breathed out, unable to apply his usual restraint with cursing. 

"Yes, it’s quite repugnant," Fish agreed. "These were found on the target’s computer. I think you can see why the client is so eager to have this taken care of." 

Lucius was taking a few deep breaths to quiet the feeling of rage that had started to build in his stomach. He swallowed heavily, feeling distaste like a flavor coating his tongue. "Could I," he started roughly and cleared his throat, "- trouble you for a drink, Fish?"

Fish considered him for a moment before she stood up and went to the bar behind her desk. She poured him two fingers of scotch and handed him the crystal glass. 

"Thank you," Lucius accepted the drink and downed it quickly. The liquor burned on its way down but it distracted him momentarily from the filth he’d just had to see. 

"The contract is twenty-five grand," Fish revealed. "For this one, I'd only take twenty percent. Honestly, if the client hadn't asked for discretion, I'd send Victor around this punk’s way." 

Lucius breathed deeply and thought about it carefully. In this business, emotions were bad, could get you killed and there was no way he could ignore the emotional response this case brought out in him. But maybe that was what could make him perfect for this particular case. He weighed the idea of another kill so soon after his last but this was futile. Another part of his brain was already doing calculations, ten days from acceptance, two hundred and forty hours to devise an untraceable way to kill a despicable man... 

He already knew he was going to accept. 

Fish took his silence for herself. "Why don't I give you until tomorrow to answer?" she suggested. "If you accept, we can start the clock off at 8 AM. That good?" 

He nodded and rose to his feet. "Sure, that's good." He set down his glass and took up the folder. "Thanks Fish. I’ll send word soon." He quickly exited through the side door which he’d entered from. 

Once he’d left, Fish sent a brief message to the contact info that Ed Nygma had supplied her. _Offer extended. Answer pending._

Nygma sent back a thumbs up emoji. 

Fish clutched her phone and quietly mused on this irregular case. She couldn’t pinpoint why she was suspicious of Nygma but she was and she didn’t like feeling as though she were putting Lucius in risk of danger. Well, besides the usual amount he incurred as an occupational hazard. Lucius was good at what he did and while he worked to maintain a professional distance, Fish liked him all the same and considered them friendly, in the most platonic of ways. If Nygma was setting some kind of trap, she’d kill him before she let Lucius be ensnared. Besides her fondness for him, he was also a significant investment and she didn’t want him done away with just yet. She vowed to keep a close and quiet eye on the whole affair. 

After leaving the nightclub, Lucius drove uptown to the Gotham Shopping Center. He chose a solitary part of the parking lot to stop in so he could review the information he’d received from Fish. He avoided the photos, choosing to turn them face down, and focused on the text of the dossier. 

Garrett Mackey was a born Gothamite living in Clinton Hill, a neighborhood that bordered the Narrows. He grew up in the city, went to public school and an average high school, deceased mother, no trail of the father. His listed occupation was ‘Custodial Volunteer’, whatever that meant.

He was also a moderately successful child pornographer. 

Forcing down his disgust, he inspected the information he’d been given. The client had clearly hacked into Mackey’s computer or hired someone else to do it. It was an expert hack job too; Mackey used S-tool software to conceal the illicit photos. It was essentially a program that could hide large amounts of data in minimal pixels. It took precision and skill to navigate around that type of security but it’d been done. Mackey ran a website where he sold photos of children. Where he got the photos had yet to be seen. But he was making a decent amount of money peddling kiddie smut to a ring of people, all of the same repulsive persuasion. The folder contained Mackey’s financial information and a short list of emails subscribed to his sleazy website.

Lucius surveyed Mackey’s photo with growing consternation. He was not an unattractive man; why did he prey on children when he seemed able - at least physically - to attract women or a partner his own age? He imagined some of his discomfort came from implicit bias, an unconscious belief that all pedophiles were fat, balding losers who lived in their mothers’ basements. Mackey’s run-of-the-mill ‘boy next door’ look didn’t lend itself to the idea of predation. He felt a faint tug of curiosity wondering how this man came to be how he was but he quickly shook himself of those thoughts. His job was not to speculate, only to execute. The why of it all wasn’t important when the result was the spreading of filth to the lowest of the city’s degenerates. 

He drove back to retrieve Tatiana while mulling the thoughts over in his head. When he pulled up to the apartment complex and shut off his car, he had to calm himself, put aside the darkness, and put on his best Uncle face. 

He entered the building to find Kalia and two other moms in conversation. The instructor broke off when she saw him and smiled in greeting. "Welcome back. We finished a couple of minutes ago." 

"Everything go well?" he asked, nodding politely to the two other women. 

"Oh, of course. Tatiana’s a natural talent. We’re gonna kill it in competition in a couple weeks. Will we see you there?" 

"Sure, I just have to make sure Trinity puts it on her calendar. Otherwise, I wouldn’t miss it for the world." 

"Wonderful! The girls are down the hall in the rec room." 

Lucius made his way into the building, down the hall, to the rec room where all the noise of the congregated little girls was coming from. He crept silently up to the entryway and peeked in to see the girls socializing. He spotted Tatiana quickly, though her back was to him as she talked to one of her friends. Beyond the sea of younger girls, an older, heavier girl sat perched on a nearby table. When she saw Lucius, she perked up but when she spoke it was to address Tatiana, not him.

“Yo, Tia, spit some bars!” she demanded and rose her phone just as a new song started.

In response, Tatiana spun on her heels, calling attention to herself and when the song started, she dutifully recited the lyrics while incorporating her own dance moves, all winding hips and jerking shoulders.

“Cocky as fuck, everything ‘bout me poppin’  
Got face, I got body, you name it, I got it!  
Cocky as fuck, bitch, you know I’m conceited  
Yo’ ho wanna be me, yo’ nigga want eat it  
Cocky as fuck, everything ‘bout me poppin’  
Got face, I got body, you name it, I got it!  
Cocky as fuck, nigga, fuck your opinion  
I hustle to get it, I get it, I get it!”

She ended her routine with a backflip and dropped into a split. Lucius was no stranger to the dance troupe’s moves but after spending the time getting acquainted with Garrett’s business model, he felt Tatiana’s dancing was way more provocative than was appropriate for her now. His presence was being clocked by the other children in the room and eventually, Tatiana glanced over her shoulder and flinched at the sight of him, her eyes going wide. “Uncle Lucius –“ 

“Get your things,” he ordered, cutting her off, his voice gruffer than he intended. “We’re leaving.”

He turned and walked away then but not before hearing a voice – presumably the same that had initially encouraged Tatiana – give a cackle and a gleeful declaration, “She’s gonna get whooped for sure!”

Lucius made his way to the elevator and in his solitude, he breathed deeply to calm himself and tried to put the worst of Garrett Mackey’s activities out of his mind. He didn’t want any bit of that filth _near_ Tatiana but just thinking about it was causing his mood to darken considerably. He had to get his emotions under control. 

As he waited for the elevator to come to his floor, he glanced up at the mirror hung above. He knew that a security camera was hidden within the reflective orb but it served to show him the hallway behind himself. Tatiana was coming towards him with hesitant shuffling steps while her friends all hung from the doorframe, a parliament of owls ready to watch their friend’s fate. Lucius paid no mind to them; instead, he extended his hand behind him and gestured for her to come closer. She hurried at his beckon and grabbed onto his hand, just as the elevator emerged and opened to let them in. 

As they boarded and he pressed the button for the ground floor, Lucius took another measured breath to relax and that’s when Tatiana spoke. “I’m sorry for cursing, Uncle Lucius,” she said softly. “Are you mad at me?”

Finally, he pulled his attention away from his own dark thoughts and focused on her. “You’re too young to be using that kind of language, even in recitation,” he gently chastised. “I’m not mad at you but you should be mindful of who can hear you speaking like that.” 

“You had an angry face,” she pointed out quietly as she tightened her hold on his wrist and leaned into his side. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized as he looked down at her. “But that wasn’t because of you. Just...some lady I ran into at the mall.” 

“What happened?” Tatiana questioned as the elevator opened on their floor. 

“She didn’t know how to wait her turn in the line,” Lucius lied easily as they exited on the ground floor. He guided Tatiana out the front doors, past Kalia and the dance mom who were still engaged in conversation. Tatiana interrupted to give an exuberant wave, “Bye, Miss Kalia!” she said cheerfully. 

Kalia broke off her conversation to wave back at Tatiana, “See you in a few weeks, baby! Make sure you practice at home!” 

Lucius led the way to where he’d parked his car. He held the door open for Tatiana before taking his spot behind the wheel and preparing the car to drive. “Seatbelt,” he pointed out and waited for her to snap herself in before pulling away from the curb. 

Once he did and they’d been driving for a while, Tatiana suddenly perked up, “Uncle Lucius, I figured out the answer to Mr. Nygma’s riddle!” 

“Oh yeah?” Lucius questioned. “What is it?” 

“I want to tell it to him!” she asserted. “Can you call him?” 

“Right now?” he challenged, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. When Tatiana responded with an obstinate stare, he sighed in resignation and grabbed his phone. “Alright, alright.” 

He dialed Ed’s number and put it on speaker phone. His new friend answered on the third ring. “Well, hello Lucius,” he all but purred. 

“It’s Tatiana, Mr. Nygma!” she declared immediately. “Uncle Lucius told me your riddle and I have the answer!” 

“Oh yes?” Ed replied, quickly shifting gears. “What’s the answer then, clever girl?” 

“Something that can be cracked, told, played, or made,” she recited. “Is a joke!” 

“You solved another one!” Ed declared. “How’d you get to be so smart?” 

“I read a lot of books,” she stated proudly. 

“Is that what you’re doing with your Uncle?” he asked and then to him he called out, “Hi Lucius.” 

“Hello Ed,” he replied, smiling. 

“No,” Tatiana interjected. “I just came from dance class and now we’re going to get ice cream.” 

“What kind of dancing do you do?” 

“I take classes for ballet and hip hop dancing. My mother taught me how to merengue and Uncle Lucius taught me how to swing dance.” 

“_Wow._ You certainly are a girl of many talents. Do you think you could do me a favor and pass the phone back to your uncle?” 

Lucius reached out to switch from speaker to Bluetooth while Tatiana gave a quick goodbye. Once the call switched to his earphone, he said to Ed, “Remember my instructions from earlier?” 

A half-beat pause and then Ed responded, “You mean your order to ‘be good’? Yes, I quite recall. Don’t worry, I won’t make you sweat with your niece in the car. I actually have some news.” 

“Oh yeah? Good, I hope.” 

“Absolutely. I’m coming to the end of my paper. I think I should have it wrapped up in another week. If I may praise myself a bit, I think I made a lot of really good points and I couldn’t have come to them without your insight. So thank you.” 

“I’m very glad to hear that, Ed. I’d be happy to go over the draft with you before you send it out.” 

“That would be wonderful. We can set it up another time though. I won’t take up any more of your time.” 

“Sounds good. We’ll talk soon.” 

“Take care, Lucius.”

“You too.” 

Once he’d hung up, Tatiana piped up. “I like Mr. Nygma,” she stated. “Is he your best friend?” 

“He’s a new friend,” he clarified, glancing at her out the corner of his eye. “Why do you like him?” 

“He’s funny and interesting,” she answered quickly. “He tells really good jokes and he’s smart like you. And he taught me that all Slytherins aren’t bad people.” 

Lucius chuckled a little and then redirected the conversation. “Speaking of friends: who was that big girl with the braids? Is she a friend of yours?” 

“That’s Amiya. She’s Stephanie’s big sister. She’s in fifth grade so we’re not really friends.”

“Hm. That’s just as well. I’d avoid her if I were you, she doesn’t seem very nice.”

“Why do you say that?” Tatiana asked. 

Lucius hesitated, considering how much to tell her and decided to disclose what had happened from his perspective. “She saw me standing behind in the doorway and encouraged you in the hopes of getting you into trouble.”

Her eyes went wide with shock and confusion. “Why would she do that?” 

“I can’t answer that, sweetie. Some people are just mean-spirited and they lash out at those around them.” 

That was not a satisfying answer for Tatiana. She crossed her arms over her chest, pressing herself back into the seat, and sucked her teeth in disgust. “So, Ma was right.” 

“What was your mother right about?” 

“She said sometimes girls won’t like you for no reason but it’s really because they’re haters.” 

He bit back a smile. “Well, she might be the expert on such matters. Just watch your back around that girl, okay? You don’t want to hang around with someone who tries to get you into trouble.” 

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed softly. 

He could tell that she was still a bit bothered so he made a new suggestion. “How about this: when we get our ice cream you can take a bunch of pictures for your Instagram so your friends know you had a good time and didn’t get into trouble.”

Her eyes lit up and a sneaky smile came to her face. “That’s petty, Uncle Lucius,” she said, her smile widening to a grin. “Let’s do it!” 

They pulled up to the Dairy Queen and entered their orders. There was no line so they were served almost instantly. Tatiana had a chocolate cone with caramel sauce and marshmallows. Lucius chose vanilla ice cream with peanut butter chips. They gathered their ice cream and retreated to the parking lot. Lucius helped his niece as she climbed his bumper to perch on the trunk of the car where she happily consumed her treat, humming as she kicked her feet. Lucius didn’t want to ruin the serene image but Garrett Mackey and his crimes niggled the back of his brain, unrelenting.

“Tati?” he called, gathering her attention. “Do you do safety drills at school?”

She paused, thinking with the spoon halfway out of her mouth before she spoke. “Well, we do shooter drills and fire drills, if that’s what you mean.”

It still tripped him out that kids nowadays were taught how to deal with a gunman storming their school but that was an issue for another day. For now, he said, “That’s sort of what I mean. But I’m more interested in how you deal with strangers, on a one-on-one basis.”

“Oh, I know what to do!” she declared, brightening quickly. “Mama taught me this. She said to never go anywhere with a stranger. If someone tries to make me go with them, she said to say every cuss word I know as _loud_ as I can.”

“That’s…a decent strategy,” Lucius conceded. “Did she teach you anything else?”

“Yes!” Tatiana said quickly. “Ma said to look out for red flags. One –“ She said, holding up a finger. “- is if a grown-up wants to be my _special_ friend. Ma says adults and kids _aren’t_ supposed to be friends like that. Two –“ She raised another finger. “- is if a grown-up asks me to keep a secret. If it’s anything other than a birthday party or a present, there’s no reason for a grown-up to ever say that. And lastly, if someone shows up and says I’m supposed to go with them, I’m not to go unless Mama or you tell me it’s okay. And those are ways to keep safe.”

Lucius was mightily impressed. He’d hesitated to breach this topic for fear that Tatiana was too little but his sister obviously hadn’t felt the same way. “Okay,” he said with a nod after a quick spoonful of ice cream. “Those are all really good methods. What about if there’s no bad person and you just find yourself lost, alone? What would you do then?”

“Then I call an Uber!”

Lucius arched an eyebrow. Between him and Trinity chauffeuring her around, Tatiana rarely found herself on public transportation, let alone ride-sharing. “What do you know about Uber?”

“Mama showed me how to use it,” she said, reaching into her pocket for her phone. She brought it out and opened the app to show him. “Here, she saved these addresses and told me to go to any one if I need to. Here’s our house and your house and Wayne Enterprises and the GCPD Headquarters too.”

Lucius let her show him, all the while feeling a rush of affection for Trinity. His sister could be an occasional scatterbrain but she never neglected the safety of her child.

“Okay, final round. What would you do if you’ve lost your phone or if the battery’s dead?” he asked.

“In case I can’t call for help, Mama said to look for a lady who looks like Grandméré and ask her for help.” 

Another decent tactic. “You are definitely more than prepared,” he admitted. “You really are a clever girl.” 

She gave him a skeptical look with a cheeky smirk. “Was there any doubt in your mind?” she quipped back sassily before taking a big bite of her ice cream.

The rest of their time was spent consuming their ice cream and snapping photos of them pulling silly faces. Trinity typically oversaw Tatiana’s Instagram activity, approving photos and screening messages to make sure they were age appropriate. In her absence, Lucius gave the approval and watched as Tatiana posted the picture and gave it the caption: _Haters can’t mess with me and Unc!_

“What’s that hashtag you’re using?” Lucius asked, glancing over her shoulder. “#FoxCharm?” 

She grinned up at him. “I read that a group of foxes is called a charm. So that’s what you and me and Mama are, a charm of Foxes.” 

“I see,” Lucius responded with a smile. 

They climbed back into the car after finishing their dessert. Tatiana’s photo had immediately raked in Likes from her mother and grandmother and a handful of friends so her mood was noticeably cheerier than before. Along the drive, she dozed in and out of sleep and Lucius’ thoughts wandered back to Garrett Mackey. He already knew that he’d accept the assignment. The ten-day deadline was also looking like a benefit; while he hunted, he chose to distance himself from his family, less distractions that way. Ten days was a reasonable time span not to see or speak to them; he’d be about his business and finish quickly. 

He arrived at his sister’s house to drop off his niece, declining Trinity’s offer to stay for dinner. He was already shifting into his ‘professional’ mode, distant and single-sighted. He kissed Tatiana on the forehead, embraced his sister, and kept on his way, his blood already warming to the anticipation of the hunt. 

When he arrived home that night, he texted Fish a single word - _Accept._

The reply came a few minutes later - _Time of assignment starts at 8 AM._

Lucius popped two sleeping pills and settled into bed. Work would start in the morning. 

***

8 AM the next morning found him parked outside Mackey’s residence. The first part of this would be surveillance. Armed with his phone, laptop, and a thermos of coffee, Lucius intended to park himself in one spot for the time being. Through visiting the city’s housing and licensing website, he was able to procure the building’s blueprints and learn its layouts. It was mercifully small - three floors, nine apartments with Mackey’s home being at the top. He surveyed the building plans and then its facade and determined that the apartment he sought was towards the back of the building, its window overlooking little except the alley behind the building. A blindspot that he mentally noted so that he might exploit it later. 

He reclined his seat and put on some music while he kept his eyes on the building, making careful note of anyone coming in or out. With so few apartments, the chance of him running into someone in the halls was a little less likely. He logged an older, paunchy man taking out the garbage, two young women in their 20’s dressed for a workout and finally, a middle aged woman with two elementary aged children, a boy and a girl. Lucius' eyes followed them down the block and he found himself hoping the family didn’t live on the same floor as Mackey. 

The man himself didn’t emerge until nearly noon. He was dressed casually in jeans and a long sleeve shirt with a laundry bag slung over his shoulder. Lucius watched as Mackey withdrew a pack - filthy habit - and lit a cigarette before heading down the block. Lucius quickly picked up his phone and checked a map of the neighborhood. The nearest laundromat was a couple of blocks away, fifteen minutes away according to Google. Not enough time to get in and out so he sat surveying the building for the time being. 

Mackey returned twenty minutes later, unburdened of laundry, carrying a paper bag of takeout food. Lucius gave his frame a considerable look over. He was young and appeared healthy. If it came to a physical confrontation, Lucius was sure he’d win but if he had his way, that wouldn’t even be an issue. His target retreated upstairs and after some time, Lucius determined he would probably stay there. He’d return the next day and work on gaining access to Mackey’s home. 

He awoke even earlier the next day with the intention of learning Mackey’s schedule, where he went, who he saw. He was parked outside Mackey’s building at 7 AM, suppressing the urge to yawn and instead sipping on coffee. He was waiting for his target to emerge. He had Mackey’s car and license plate in the file so luckily, he would not lose the man in the subway. He was not long in waiting; Mackey came out a few minutes after he parked and headed to his own waiting car. Lucius waited until he pulled away from the curb before starting his pursuit. He stayed three cars behind and followed Mackey for thirty minutes until he pulled up to his place of employment, to Lucius' alarm. 

Garrett Mackey worked in an elementary school. 

Lucius watched as he parked in the school’s lot and climbed out. He carried a garment slung over his arm and Lucius could make it out from a distance: a janitor’s uniform, ironically, pretty similar to the same uniforms he often employed to gain access to a building. Mackey parked away from the main entrance and entered through a service door. 

Lucius frowned deeply as he sat across the street and watched the parents dropping off their kids before the first bell. None of them could know about the predator that walked among their children and Lucius was willing to bet Mackey had victimized at least one student. Even on the off chance he hadn't, his mere proximity to them was abhorrent to Lucius' senses. 

Lucius took out his phone and searched for information on Mackey’s employers. It was a staffing agency called Freelance Custodial. He dialed the number and waited a single ring before someone answered. 

"Freelance Custodial, how can I help you?" a chipper young woman asked. 

"Good morning," Lucius said. "I was wondering if you would be so kind as to explain your business model to me?" 

"Ah, sure. We have a staff of well trained janitors, cleaners, porters, valets, and doormen and they go out on contract to various businesses and establishments around the city." 

"Such as hospitals?" he asked. "Schools?" 

"Yes sir." 

Lucius took a steadying breath then asked, "Do you ever send staff to Sion 162 Public School in the Upper East Side?" 

"Oh no, sir. We only service lower Gotham, a thirty block radius from Central Square Park." 

"Thank you very much," Lucius said. "Have a lovely day." He promptly ended the call.

He felt somewhat reassured after learning this cretin had never set foot in Tatiana’s school but it was of little comfort knowing that the man was surrounded by other people’s children all day. A janitor would have every reason to be in the bathrooms, he realized with a sinking feeling. 

He slapped his palm against the steering wheel and took a steadying breath to calm himself. Worrying about Mackey’s potential victims wouldn’t help him form his plan to kill the man. He had to keep focused. 

He drove back to Mackey’s apartment building. His target would be otherwise occupied for the next several hours so this was a good enough time to get a better sense of his environment. Lucius lingered around the front step, absently scrolling through his phone, as he waited for someone to exit the building. He waited nearly ten minutes before someone emerged, one of the building’s older residents. The man zipped up his jacket and stepped off the stoop. Lucius moved swiftly, catching the door before it closed and slipped inside. 

The inside was as rundown as the outside. Lucius paused as he heard the skittering of some unseen rodent scrabbling in the shadows. The stairs were directly ahead of him. As he walked up, he slipped a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and put them on. When he emerged on the third floor he made his way to Mackey’s door, turned his back, and lightly knocked three times. If anyone was still inside, he wanted to have full warning. But when no one answered after he knocked a second time, he turned and got to work picking the lock. He cracked it in under half a minute and let himself in. 

He stood still a moment, hoping not to be greeted by a pitbull or a confused girlfriend. When no threat presented itself, Lucius took careful, cautious steps into the crowded space. Mackey lived in a studio apartment. The small single room was littered with clothes, leftover food, an overflowing ashtray and empty beer cans, a ceiling fan hanging stationary over it all. He wrinkled his nose, the clutter keeping him alert and tense.

To his right was the kitchen and Lucius wandered that way. This area was at least a little cleaner than the sleeping area. There was a small plastic table pushed up against the wall between two windows that led out to the fire escape. He moved close to them to check the view outside the blinds. The windows faced the back of the building adjacent across the yard. It didn’t seem likely he’d been seen but he had to be careful when making his escape. He turned and found another door that he peered inside. It was a walk-in closet, about three feet deep. A good place to rest and wait, he decided. 

His cursory search of the apartment took under ten minutes. After he got a sense of his bearings, he started snooping. Mackey had one of those loft beds, elevated over a desk upon which sat a laptop. Lucius turned the machine on and wasn’t surprised to be greeted with a password screen. He’d worry later about hacking it. For now, he turned his attention to the desk drawers and started rifling through. There were loose sheets of paper in the first drawer. A glance at them showed him a series of initials and numbers, not quickly decipherable. The middle drawer held a bunch of manilla envelopes. Lucius opened one and looked inside, spying a load of flash drives. He pulled out one and turned it over in his hands. It was silver and unadorned except for a tiny sticker that read $200 and a date. The other drives were marked with a variance of prices. Lucius pocketed the $200 one and moved on to the final bottom drawer. Inside were a few scattered hard drives, tools, memory cards, and taking up the most space, a huge metal device that Lucius hefted up to bring to eye level. A quick inspection told him what it was - a magnet, large and powerful enough to wipe the hard drives of any nearby electronics once it was turned on. 

He had in front of him at least a portion of Garrett Mackey’s operation. He had to learn what he could of Mackey’s vile enterprise and this was part of that. He returned to the first drawer and took about two dozen photos of the encoded missives with his phone and stood up. He gave a look around, carefully inspecting the space. The place was small and cramped and he was willing to bet the walls were thin. A hood like this, neighbors were more likely to mind their business but he still took into account the extra effort he’d need to keep quiet. One shout from Mackey could complicate the whole thing. 

His search was complete so he made to leave. He made sure the laptop and lights were turned off, relocked the door, then moved to the window, giving a wary glance at the fire escape. The rest of the property wasn’t in a great state; he just hoped the metal frame wouldn’t pull away from the building with his weight. He opened the window, stuck his head out and looked up. The roof was less than a foot above his head. Secondary escape route, he mentally categorized. A glance down showed him a mostly empty alleyway - a homeless person sat bundled up behind some trash cans, rocking slowly. Lucius figured he had to risk it so he opened the window and carefully, precisely maneuvered himself onto the fire escape, careful not to catch his coat on the ragged frame or his skin on the rusted metal. He delicately closed the window behind him, effectively sealing the home behind him, and started down the fire escape, moving swiftly. He couldn’t chance someone moving through their apartment and spotting his suspicious trespass. Thankfully, he made it to the ground without obstruction. He released a low breath, pulled his coat tight about him, and started out of the alley. 

"Ay yo." 

Lucius paused in his step, turning his head to take in the homeless person who’d addressed him. He was white, mid 20’s, with ratty blonde dreadlocks and a lazy smile as he addressed Lucius. 

"You got a dollar, boss?" 

Lucius' eyebrows went up. He gave a glance over his shoulder and, seeing no one, stepped towards the man. When he withdrew his wallet, he saw the man straighten up, eyes brightening. Lucius withdrew a $20 bill and held it up to show the man. Greed stamped across his face, he reached out for it but Lucius pulled it just out of his reach. At his confused look, Lucius pointedly caught his gaze and stated clearly, "You never saw me," and held out the money again. 

The homeless man grinned and grabbed it. "Saw who, man?" he replied and sunk back into his sitting position. 

Lucius turned away and had taken a step forward when he paused. He turned and once the man looked up again, asked, "Do you hang around here a lot?"

The other man shrugged. "I come and go," he answered evasively. 

Lucius reached back into his wallet and this time he withdrew a $50 and held it up to the man’s view. "Maybe you should avoid this neighborhood for a couple of days," Lucius lightly suggested and held out the money. 

The man took it swiftly. "Yeah, I just might," he said gruffly and turned away from Lucius to hide the money in the folds of his clothes. 

Lucius nodded and left him to it, returned to his car. 

He estimated Mackey would stay at work as long as school was in session so he killed the time by making an appearance at Wayne Enterprises. But by time of dismissal, Lucius was parked right outside the school, keeping an eye out for Mackey. He had to get a sense of his schedule if he intended to trap the man. He sat outside the school for nearly two hours before Mackey emerged and got into his car. Then the hunt was back on. 

Lucius followed his target to a handful of stops. Each stop brought them to a residential home. Each time, Lucius watched as Mackey parked, approached the front door, retrieved something from the mailbox, then turned and left without further intervention. He did this for nearly five houses before he returned to his own domicile. Lucius was outside for nearly an hour before he decided to call it quits for the night and retreat for the time being. 

He returned to his home to relax and go over the evidence he’d compiled. He heated up some pasta leftover from earlier in the week and settled at his desk to work. He switched on his laptop, hooked up his phone, and began transferring the pictures he’d taken. When they were moved, he maximized the photo to get a clearer look at the scribbled notes. Each line was a series of numbers with an occasional set of initials, obviously written in some code that only Mackey could bust. He turned his attention to the flash drive he’d swiped. With a quiet feeling of dread setting in his stomach, he plugged in the device. 

The window that opened held a single video file labelled with six nondescript numbers. He clicked open the file. The setting looked like someone’s living room. Someone sat in an armchair but the lens was aimed down so as not to capture this person’s face. 

The person, a man, spoke. "Sugarplum, come here, will you?" 

Something moved at the corner of the frame. A blonde child, a girl dressed in a nightgown who couldn’t be more than six, stood at the periphery of the shot, rocking back and forth on her bare feet. 

The man in the chair held out a hand, beckoning to the little girl. "Why are you teasing? Come here and we’ll play the tickle game." 

"I don't wanna play, Uncle Andy," the girl said, her voice small and meek. 

"Don't be like that," he cajoled. "It’ll be very fast and you’ll get a candy after." 

The girl took one step forward then another and reached out for Andy’s outstretched hand. He grabbed her with startling speed and scooped her up to plant in his lap. He started by tickling her under her arms and the little girl shrieked with laughter. He continued in this innocent fashion for about a minute more but it became painfully obvious when the line was crossed. The man’s hands wandered and the little girl grew quiet, her expression tight and uncomfortable, as she endured the groping. Lucius' throat tightened with disgust and he smacked the spacebar to pause the video and took deep breaths to still the rage and revulsion building in him. 

He was no stranger to the madmen and degenerates that inhabited the city but this foulness was hard to stomach. This went beyond Mackey; he was obviously working in some capacity with one or several others, men with the same disgusting predilections to shuffle around this kiddie smut. He wished that he had the time and resources to identify more of Mackey’s co-conspirators but he had to focus on the one target he was being paid to eliminate. 

He planned to tail Mackey again the following day but until then he’d muse on how to kill the man. He felt an uncommon surge of sadism, a reasonable reaction in his mind to Mackey’s level of depravity. But even though he was sure he’d enjoy breaking Mackey’s fingers one by one, he had a method to adhere to. He could leave no blood or sign of violence so pummeling the man was out. He glanced over at his row of plants, envisioned the chemicals buried beneath them. He was sure he had some agent with which to dose Mackey, something ensured to give him a bit of pain before he shuffled off his mortal coil. Tetradotoxin might have been good to use but it was perhaps, too effective. The victim could suffer for up to six hours and that was too long for Lucius to consider spending with his target. Also, a distinctive toxin like that would be easily identified during autopsy. So he’d have to choose something else for Garrett Mackey. 

His musing was interrupted by his phone buzzing. He picked it up and saw a new text message from Ed - _Busy, Foxy?_

His eyebrows went up, his attention instantly diverted. _I am,_ he replied. _But let’s discuss this unsanctioned nickname._

Ed sent back a grinning emoji and the message: _Don't get worked up. I just figured if you were busy, you’d be up to some clever endeavor._

_I wonder if this falls into such a category,_ he thought to himself. He’d much rather trade banter with Ed but he couldn’t let himself be distracted while he had a job to complete. He was still on the clock. _Keen as usual,_ he replied back. _Let me deal with my work and I’ll get back to you._

_Understood._

Lucius set the phone face down and sat back in his chair, closing his eyes briefly. It was impossible not to feel anger and nausea at the filthy material in his possession. _How can someone do that to a child? And then to film it for profit and titillation._ His foul mood had his murderous desire sharpened to a blade’s fine point. He’d have Mackey under his hands within the next few days. He only had to keep focused. 

The next day, he was up early and parked down the block from Mackey’s place. He had gotten there a little earlier than the previous day and planted a tiny motion sensor camera in the corner of the building’s front door’s frame. Though he was no longer pointed at the front door, he could access the camera via an app on his phone. It would only start recording when something moved within its sensor field. It was demonstrated when Mackey crossed the threshold, leaving for work. Lucius tailed him to the school, making sure he entered the building before he drove on, aimless while he thought. 

With his target preoccupied for the next several hours, now was a good time to set the stage for Mackey’s death. But he had yet to decide just how to dispose of the man. He’d decided against his usual method of poison; this case required something a little different. He let his thoughts wander and as they did, they turned to Ed. While he was committed to completing his job, he also didn’t want to ignore Ed completely. Social obligation and personal duty had to maintain a delicate balance.

So, at the next red light, he picked up his phone and sent a text: _Sorry I didn’t get back to you last night. You were right about me working on something. I'm afraid it’ll have most of my focus for the next few days._

The phone buzzed with a quick reply and Lucius waited until traffic slowed to read it. _No worries. Tend to your work. Let me know if you need any help._

That made him chuckle a little as he imagined _actually_ asking Ed for his input on this business. _What would you recommend for a quick, clean kill?_ he thought of asking. 

_If you're looking to avoid a mess,_ Ed would reply in his quick, clipped clinical way, _then snapping the neck is effective. Swift, precise, and silent._

Actually, now that he was on this train of thought, he gave serious consideration to what had just been a flight of fancy. He was sure Ed would share his disgust for Mackey’s illegal dealings. With his particular history, he drew the conclusion that Ed might have specific ire directed at those that would hurt children. The suspicious circumstances of Ed Nashton Sr.’s death loomed in the back of his mind. He couldn’t reopen that can of worms just now, though it did remind him that he’d never discovered any proof of foul play regarding that case. 

He forced himself to refocus on Mackey and his mood quickly darkened. He wanted his business with this pedophile to be over and done with. Having to study the man and his methodology put Lucius in a dark cloud that he was eager to shake off. He couldn’t help but think of Tatiana, what he would do if he ever discovered she was being hurt like the dozens of children videotaped and sent from all over to Mackey. He would tear that offender apart, piece by piece, his natural aversion to blood be damned. 

Thinking of her, he remembered the somewhat ghoulish tune she’d been singing when he saw her last:

_Are you, are you  
Coming to the tree  
They strung up a man  
They say who murdered three  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met at midnight  
In the hanging tree_

An idea was taking root and starting to sprout in his mind. He did a few mental calculations and determined he could achieve his goal if he moved fast. He had a few stops to make, a few preparations to set up but if all went according to plan, he could wrap up this job in one more night. The whole thing would be completed in under 72 hours if he had his way. And he was prepared to bring this home and put the whole ugly business to rest. 

***

He entered Mackey’s apartment the following evening and quickly got in position. He’d affixed a microscopic camera to the front door downstairs so he would know when his target was coming up. He made preparations for his method and then he waited. 

He was pacing listlessly in the apartment when his phone beeped with the front door camera feed. He checked the video and saw Mackey enter the premises. Immediately, his heart rate picked up. _Here we go._ He shut off the kitchen light and hid himself in the closet. 

Forty-five seconds to climb the stairs, Lucius calculated. Another thirty to come inside and get situated. He listened carefully to the sounds of Mackey’s keys in the lock and the door opening. The man stomped his way inside, cutting left to the bathroom. While he relieved himself, Lucius took a few steadying breaths and got into position by the door. 

The toilet flushed and he heard movement coming closer. He kept still, poised to spring, and was ready for when the door opened. Mackey reached in for a hanger and Lucius latched onto his wrist and yanked him into the closet. Before he could make a sound, Lucius spun him around, pulling him back to his body and quickly placed him in a sleeper hold, one forearm across the throat, one hand at the back of the head, and applied pressure. Mackey struggled wildly but Lucius' grip was firm. His target was kicking at his legs and shins but Lucius just twisted his body to the side to minimalize the target area. As long as Mackey didn’t hit him in the groin, he’d be fine. It only took a few seconds for the struggling to stop and for Mackey to go limp in his grasp. When all the fight had gone out of him, Lucius carefully lowered him to the floor. 

He stepped over the body and climbed out of the closet, crossing the apartment to the front door. A peek outside revealed nothing amiss. He could only hope the interior of the apartments were as serene. He turned away, noticing that Mackey had opened and booted up his laptop. That was good, it would save him the trouble of having to threaten the man to reveal the password. He quickly got to work. First, he carried one of the chairs from the kitchen into the sleeping space and set it up directly under the ceiling fan. Next, he got his bag and retrieved a loop of rope. He’d gone down to the docks the night before and snatched it. At his home, he’d fashioned a noose and now he carefully wrapped his rope around the base of the ceiling fan, looped it around the fan blades, and ran it through the bars of Mackey’s bedframe. 

There wasn’t enough space in the apartment for a long drop that would kill the victim by snapping their neck. No, Mackey would die of suffocation. The idea had taken root yesterday and started to sprout. Before his target arrived, he’d reinforced the ceiling fan with a few products bought from a hardware store. He was certain now that Mackey’s weight wouldn’t pull it down on top of him. And if it did...well, he’d just have to improvise. 

Preparations complete, he went back to the closet. Mackey’s form lay prone where he left it. Lucius stepped into the closet, crouched down and pulled the man up, lifting him across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. He made sure to transport him carefully, refrain from knocking his head against the doorframe and set him in the chair in the center of the room. He reached into his bag again and retrieved a set of black silk ties. He bound the man’s hands behind his back and then tied each of his legs to the chair in which he sat. He was held firm enough that he couldn’t move easily, yet loose enough so that the binding wouldn’t leave marks on him for a medical examiner to find. And finally, he slipped the noose around Mackey’s neck and pulled the knot to tighten it. 

This whole case bothered him on some level so it made sense he’d feel discomfort at the method of killing as well. Poison was cleaner, even elegant in a way. Hanging would never be anything but brutal and the noose would always symbolize racial terror. He had felt an odd disconnect and a whisper of a memory from his childhood, as he tied and knotted the loop the night before. He had to remain disassociated else his horror and revulsion at the whole affair would overcome him and the time for that had long passed. He stayed in control. 

He gave the rope a few experimental tugs. Though he’d wound it around several times, it still slid as he pulled, slowly lifting into the air. He let it slacken and looped the remaining rope around his arm so that it wouldn’t drag and he gave Mackey a considering look. 

The whole blitz and set up had taken less than six minutes. The man would come to soon and Lucius had one more thing to take care of. He opened Microsoft Word and quickly typed up a brief but repentant suicide note before he minimized the window. 

He stood in front of Mackey and considered the best way to wake him up. He decided and reached out with both hands to tighten his fingers over Mackey’s nose and mouth. A few seconds later and Mackey’s eyes flew open as he jerked in his seat. Lucius let him get a look at his face while he restricted his airflow for another couple of seconds before he let go abruptly, leaving the man gasping for breath. 

"What the -" Mackey panted heavily. "What the fuck, man? Who the fuck are you?" 

Lucius looked down at him dispassionately as he started to struggle against his bindings. He pulled out a pocketknife and unfolded it. Mackey went still, his blue eyes going wide at the sight of the blade. 

"Wait, listen, please - " 

Lucius leaned down quickly, using one hand to grip the back of Mackey’s neck. With his other, he pressed the blade flat to the other man’s lips. "Keep your voice down," Lucius commanded calmly. "Or I’ll slice your tongue out. I don't need you to be able to speak to get what I want."

Eyes wide, breath panicked, Mackey’s voice immediately dropped to a whisper. "I don't know who you are or why you're here but listen, you don't have to do this." 

Lucius blinked, tilting his head just a little to the side. "You don't know why I'm here, Mr. Mackey?" he asked. "I'm sure it can’t be too hard to figure out. Why don't you give it a guess?" 

His wild eyes searched Lucius' and he saw the dawning of realization in those blue depths. "Fuck," he muttered. "This is about...the pictures, the videos…" 

"_Of_?" Lucius prompted, his voice tense. 

Mackey gulped and started to shake. "The kids." 

"There you go," Lucius replied. "I told you it wouldn’t be hard. So, you can infer that I'm here to take you out and put a stop to your little pedophilic empire." 

"Man, come on, listen. I just... I just sell the stuff," he said lowly, insistent. "I'm not like the rest of those freaks, I didn’t make _any_ of it! I'm not a pedophile. I have sex with women, grown women!" 

Lucius blinked in response, carefully regulating his response. "So, you see some moral high ground in distributing child porn over being the one to create it? Profit over perversion?"

"Dude, I don't know shit about moral nothing. I do know that a man’s gotta eat. And this is _Gotham_. As far as bad shit goes, a couple of kids getting felt up registers kinda low on the list." 

Lucius' grip on his neck tightened and Mackey gasped before falling silent again. Lucius pulled him close so that their faces were mere inches apart. 

"You have the opportunity to lengthen your life," he warned him darkly. "As long as you keep your filthy opinions to yourself and tell me what I came here to know. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, okay," Mackey whispered, nodding quickly. 

"I want the names of your customers," he stated clearly. "Everyone who subscribes to your cesspool of a website, everyone who sends in those vile videos." 

Mackey’s breath was rapid but when he looked up at Lucius, his eyes were less wild than before. Lucius studied his expression and seemed to glean his thought process. Adrenaline was still coursing through him but his fear and panic at being captured was beginning to subside as he tried to weigh his options on leaving the situation unscathed. 

"Someone paying you to do this?" Mackey muttered, lowering his head. 

"That's correct."

"How about I pay you to walk away instead?" Mackey interjected. "I’ll – I’ll even give you the names you want."

Lucius arched an eyebrow. "My finances are in fine standing. Whatever you offer won't make or break my bank." 

"Never met a man who’d turn down a bundle of offered cash," he shot back, tone laced with desperation. "Think on it, man. You're clearly a professional. I give you the names and the cash, you let me live. I’ll leave Gotham and then _bam_, you got two paydays." 

Lucius went silent, letting the pause ramp up his target’s emotions before he asked, "How much we talking?" 

"I’ve got forty grand here in the apartment. It’s all yours if you want it." 

Lucius shot him a look of surprise. He’d done a fairly decent search of the place and hadn't found such a large sum of money. He wasn’t above taking it either; he often looted his targets if they left their spoils within reach. 

Lucius moved away from him to the desk and picked up the laptop. He turned and set it in Mackey’s lap before he undid the tie around his right wrist. "Get me the names." 

With his free hand, Mackey delved into his files, disabling his own encryption program, to retrieve the information Lucius demanded. At the end of it, Lucius had a short list of thirty names and emails and about a dozen addresses where the porn was collected from. That was the biggest score to Lucius - clearly defined locations where the smut was being filmed. As soon as this list was in the hands of the police, they would do something to help those children. He took a picture of the screen with his phone then set the laptop aside. 

"Thank you," he replied sincerely. "And the money?" 

Here Mackey hesitated. "Untie me and I’ll get it for you." 

He shook his head. "Not a chance. Tell me now or our business is done here." 

"How do I know you won't just take it and kill me anyway?" 

"You don't," Lucius said with a shrug, supremely unconcerned. "But if you don't tell me then I definitely will kill you. Your scenario is a possibility. Mine is a certainty." 

Mackey’s breath hitched as the sweat ran down his face. Lucius let him stew for a moment before he pulled the rope, not tight enough to choke but enough to get his attention. 

"Okay," he wheezed, coughing slightly. "I’ll tell you." 

When Lucius slackened the rope, his target took several deep breaths and said shakily, "In the bathroom ceiling. In the tile above the left lightbulb." 

"Thank you," he said again. He leaned forward and untied the straps around Mackey’s legs, first the right then the left. Before the man could appreciate his newfound freedom, Lucius gave a vicious tug on the rope, quickly pulling it taut around Mackey’s neck. The man shot up but Lucius stood firm in his way so there was no path to escape. 

"_Get - up_," he ordered sternly, keeping the pressure on the rope. 

Mackey scrambled to climb onto the chair, to give him some slack and allow himself to breathe. Keeping the rope tight but no longer strangling him, Lucius moved behind Mackey’s standing form and quickly tied his wrists together. Again not tight but he needed him unable to claw at the rope around his neck. Fingernail marks would add suspicion to the autopsy report. Then with the line still tight, he tied and knotted it through the bedframe. 

Mackey stood on the chair, stretched out on his toes, taking short, shallow breaths. Lucius reasoned he wasn’t going anywhere so he crossed the small distance to the bathroom and stood on the toilet to loosen the ceiling tile above the light fixture. He groped blindly for a few seconds before his hand hit the money. It was wrapped in clear plastic and Lucius held it up to his eye. The bills were hundreds, several stacks of them. _Not bad._

He carried the money into the other room. Mackey was struggling to keep himself upright and to get as much air as he could. 

"Please let me go," he begged. "You got the money. Just take it and leave me, man. Have some mercy." 

"_Mercy_?" Lucius repeated. He set the money down on the desk and sharply yanked on the rope, causing Mackey to gasp for air. "Was mercy on your mind when you built your website, when you collected those disgusting videos of your compatriots molesting their own family members and chose to circulate them for money? Were you feeling very _merciful_ then?" He moved to stand in front of his target, raising one foot to rest on the edge of the chair’s seat. Mackey’s time was nearly done; he only had to kick aside the chair and this affair would be closed. 

Mackey, sensing his imminent end, grew vicious, his teeth bared in a snarl. That grabbed Lucius' attention. The theory that people revealed who they really were in their last moments of life had been proven time and time again before his eyes. The sniveling, begging visage was done away with and now Mackey’s blue eyes shone with bitter hate. 

"You think you're better than me, motherfucker?" he spat. "I may be a scumbag but I never fucking killed no one." 

"I don't lose sleep over killing one such as you," Lucius said with a shrug. "Most would consider it a public service."

"Yeah I bet," Mackey retorted. "But what about your little girl?" 

Lucius went still, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. 

"Oh yeah," the man crooned, shooting him a strained grin. "Think you're the only one that's smart? I figure you gotta be a parent. You wouldn’t hate me so much if you wasn’t. And if you had a son, you might not care as much. So tell me, do you feel superior when you tuck your daughter in at night with the same hands you use to murder?"

Lucius grit his teeth and Mackey’s grin widened. He gave a croaking laugh. 

"Fuck you, you spook bastard," he said, spitting saliva. "Go ahead and kill me. You think that list is even a fraction of the perverts of Gotham? You can kill me but that won't keep her safe. Eventually someone like me is gonna find her and fuck their way into that tight little Black pussy and tear it in two!"

_That_ was more than enough. With a grunt of effort, Lucius kicked the chair out from under Mackey. The man fell a short distance only to be caught by the rope, applying pressure to his carotid artery and effectively restricting his airflow. His mouth opened, gagging soundlessly as his body jerked and flailed. Lucius stepped back to stay clear of his kicking legs and the whole time he kept his eyes fixed on Mackey’s face, waiting for the moment the light in his eyes would die out. 

Lucius raised his voice slightly, making sure Mackey would hear him in his dying moment. "If any place like Hell exists, I hope you find yourself there," Lucius murmured. "Disgusting pig." 

This method of death was not instant though; he was in for a wait. As he stood sentry before Mackey’s dying body, still for several minutes, he carefully observed the hanged man’s face. He felt he saw a sufficient amount of panic and fear in his eyes and that satisfied him. A man such as this deserved a painful death. 

_And what do I deserve?_ He wondered idly. He would never do something as repugnant as harming children but he _was_ a killer for hire at the end of the day. He didn’t have the moral high ground here but then, he’d never pretended to. 

Death by suffocation could take up to as much as thirty minutes. Lucius hoped to linger for only half that amount of time. He turned away from his strung up victim and stood before the open laptop. He pulled up Mackey’s client list alongside the false suicide note and left them split screen in plain view. He made sure the laptop was plugged in and disabled any screensaver or background app that would boot him back to the password screen. After that, he reached into the nearby drawer and withdrew the envelope of flash drives, the evidence of so much pain and sickness. He spilled these across the desk. With all the evidence in plain sight, he could not make this job go any easier for the GCPD. The fix was in. 

He bundled up the money he’d been offered and put it in his bag. He stopped briefly at the door to look out the peep hole. The hallway was empty and silent to his satisfaction. He put the chain on the door then surveyed Mackey’s still body. His eyes had rolled back, his jaw gone slack. Lucius checked his watch and then gently placed two fingers at Mackey’s wrist to take his pulse. Nothing beat under his hand; the man was done. Lucius untied Mackey’s wrists and pulled off the man’s shoes and lined them against the wall. He shut off the lights so that only the light of the laptop screen illuminated the grisly scene in the living room. Lucius took up his bag and crossed into the kitchen. He waited a few minutes more in stillness, building his own sense of security, before he opened the window and climbed out onto the fire escape. 

His body moved as though on autopilot. He was even quicker to the ground this time. The alley behind the building was mercifully deserted. He wasted no time in turning away and striding away to where he’d parked his car. He barely registered his own thoughts as he slid behind the wheel and pulled away from the curb. 

Lucius' movements continued to be mechanical. He clicked his seatbelt into place, he kept his eyes on the color of the light, but his thoughts were back on Mackey and his last moments. The whole case had unsettled him. Even killing the architect of it all didn’t seem like enough to soothe him. He felt a sense of disgust, with the man he’d just killed and a little at himself too. 

With the killing of Mackey, his mind was finally able to unfocus. He assumed a bit of disassociation was at play because he finally blinked and became acutely aware of his surroundings. He had driven uptown and was cruising the streets of Trinity’s neighborhood instead of his own. He felt uneasy at this slight unraveling and decided he needed some grounding. Tatiana’s face appeared like a beacon in his mind and he turned the steering wheel purposefully now to turn down his sister’s street. 

He parked in the driveway, blocking in Trinity’s car, and climbed out, shutting the door quietly behind him. He’d stashed the bag with the stolen money under the seat out of sight.

He climbed the short porch steps, guided his key into the lock and let himself into the house. He startled at the sight of his sister on the stairs in a silk nightrobe carrying a ceramic mug. Trinity jumped in fright, spilling the contents of her mug over her hand and then flinched back as though to throw the mug. 

"It’s just me!" Lucius cried, throwing his hand out. His sister had a decent arm and he really didn’t want to be nursing a concussion this late. 

Trinity stopped, recognizing him and sagged with a huge sigh. "Jesus Christ!" she said under her breath as she sat on the stairs, clutching her chest. 

"No, only me," he replied lowly, a poor attempt at a joke. He shut the door behind him and crossed to the wall where the alarm system beeped, ready to accept the security code. 

"Lucius, what on Earth are you doing here so late?" Trinity asked him. 

"What time is it?" he asked distantly. 

"I – It’s nearly midnight," Trinity said after a moment. 

"Huh," he said simply. He crossed the foyer and started unbuttoning his jacket. Trinity stood and watched him. "Lucius?" she asked again, the concern clear in her tone. 

"I need to see Tatiana," he said as he pulled off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the sofa. 

Trinity was staring at him, her forehead creased with worry. "The hell for?" she wondered. "She has school in the morning, she’s been asleep for hours." 

"I won't wake her," he promised and started his way up the stairs. Trinity made an affronted noise but she didn’t stop him nor did she follow. 

Lucius went to the second story of the home, to the door on his immediate left and opened it gently. Tatiana had a light machine, a sleep aid device that projected a show of stars on the ceiling and played soothing music. The room was strewn with toys that Lucius carefully stepped over to reach the four poster bed in the center of the room. Tatiana was fast asleep, splayed out like a starfish on her back, breathing noisily with her mouth open. He resisted the urge to laugh at her. Instead he lowered himself to the floor next to the bed and gently held her hand in his. And then he just sat. 

His earlier discomfort, his unease, felt soothed in his young niece’s presence. In fact, he lowered his head to the bed and took a few deep breaths in rest. He must have dozed off because he was being awoken by Trinity gently shaking his shoulder. 

When they’d descended the stairs, Lucius felt more like himself. "I'm sorry for barging in," he said. "I’ll let you get back to sleep." He moved to grab his coat from where he’d dropped it and found it missing. Trinity stood in his way, arms crossed stubbornly, her expression pugnacious. 

"Nah uh," she objected immediately. She grabbed his wrist and led him through the dining room, into the kitchen. The lights above the stove were on, illuminating the steaming teapot. Lucius noticed two black and white mugs, a replacement of Trinity’s drink and the other presumably for him. Trinity took the white mug and beckoned him to take the other. He did and the strong scent of green tea hit his nose. He looked inside and noted Trinity had added a liberal amount of honey, the way he liked it. 

"Thanks," he said as he took a small sip to hide his surprise. After a childhood of their mother forcing Trinity to fetch for and clean after her brothers, she very pointedly did not engage in such mundanities as making a plate or retrieving something lost for either of her brothers. It was a totally unexpected kindness and now Lucius was sure he would not be able to slip away easily. 

Trinity proved him right when she moved to the back door, waving her hand for Lucius to follow. She slid the door open and they stepped out onto the back patio. Here there was a tasteful set of wicker furniture including a table on which sat two squat candles and an ashtray that held a perfectly rolled joint. Beyond the tiled patio, there was a small stretch of land that completed the property and it was completely hidden from the street out front. 

Trinity dropped into her swinging chair while Lucius took a seat on the wicker couch pressed up against the wall. The night air was cool but it felt good to be under the sky. He tilted his head back and breathed in the scents of the dark. 

Across from him, his sister reached into the pocket of her robe and withdrew a white lighter. She lit the candles on the table then plucked the joint out of the ashtray. 

"They don't drug test you at Wayne, do they?" she asked as she put the joint to her lips and lit it. 

"No," Lucius answered, watching her. "I'm too high up for all that." 

Trinity inhaled for a few seconds and held it out for Lucius. "Is this the stuff that came from Ivy?" he asked, eyeing it suspiciously. 

"Yeah but not the batch you brought me. She calls this stuff Chronic Naptime. Guaranteed to calm you down and gods know you need it." 

Lucius took the joint from her and took a small pull. 

"So, what’s going on with you?" Trinity asked directly. 

He blew out a slow breath, watched the smoke rise into the air. "It’s not important," he said, shaking his head. "I shouldn’t have come here and worried you."

His sister immediately frowned, her expression skeptical. "You take me for a fool, Lucius?" She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her eyes big and serious as they surveyed him. "You never just show up without calling. Maman raised us better than that. _And_ you never just toss aside your coat, like Monty does. You always hang it up. And finally, you ask me for the time yet you're wearing your watch on your wrist." 

Lucius chuckled lightly. "No getting past you, I see. Have I told you you're amazing?" 

"Amazing enough to know when you're trying to flatter and distract me," she shot back. "So you gonna spill or do I have to get really annoying?" 

"Don't do that," he cautioned. He took another slow inhale of the joint, trying to quickly come up with a suitable lie. Well, they say the best lies have a bit of truth in them.

He blew smoke into the air and cleared his throat before speaking. "I was given the job of doing a bit of surveillance on a potential client, a person we were considering hiring at Wayne. Part of the job entailed hacking into his personal computer and I was not pleased with what I found." 

Trinity took the joint, inhaled and asked, "What did you find?" 

"Child porn." 

Trinity’s eyes bugged and she started to cough harshly. Lucius moved towards her but she waved him off as she stood up and tried to stifle her coughs with her hand. When the fit subsided, she spat on the grass behind her in a way that would have had their mother scolding her and resumed her seat. The chair swung lazily and Trinity drew up her knees to sit suspended in air. "What’re you gonna do?" she asked him, her voice low. 

He reached for his tea and wrapped both hands around the warm ceramic. "It’s somewhat delicate," he said carefully. "Technically, what I did was illegal. I can’t announce what I found without disclosing how I came across the material."

Trinity sucked her teeth loudly. "Are you kidding? Who the fuck’s gonna care how you found out if you can serve them up a pedophile?" 

"The courts, Trin," he responded patiently. "But it’s immaterial. Tomorrow I’ll leave an anonymous tip at the GCPD and it’ll be in Jim’s hands." 

Trinity took another hit of the joint and let the smoke seep out between her teeth before she spoke. "You did the right thing, Lucius," she declared. "Though if I had it my way, that piece of shit would be six feet under. Daddy always said that everyone deserved their day in court but I don't know. If someone’s gonna victimize kids, why should they be treated with fairness and respect? Fuck outta here with that." 

"So is that what you would do?" he asked, reaching out for the joint. "Execute all pedophiles?" 

"Sounds fine to me!" she declared boldly, passing over the drugs. "I'm not shedding tears for a fucking kid fucker." 

It was a reassuring sentiment but Lucius wasn’t sure if she’d feel the same when put to the test. It’s easy to declare what one would do; it’s different to be faced with the same fact of the matter. He took a short drag, held the smoke, and released it slowly. He did not smoke often so already, the fog of the weed was calming him down. 

Trinity sighed and took a sip of her tea before she spoke. "I'm glad you did something," she stated. "Maybe it’s nothing in the bigger scheme of things but any one pedophile put in jail makes the streets safer for Gotham’s kids. For Tatiana." 

Gotham kids were rarely safe, he thought morosely. They were notoriously easy to prey upon and the cops rarely pursued crimes against children. He sighed roughly, rubbing at his eyes as he leaned back and took another hit. "Sometimes," he said quietly, after he’d exhaled, "I worry about her all the time." 

Trinity scoffed. "You?" She snapped her fingers for the joint and Lucius passed it back. She took a slow, thoughtful drag then blew the cloud of smoke into the air above her head. "I do worry about her all the time. The big stuff like death and kidnapping, sure but the little things are harder to defend against. I worry what will happen when I have to let her out of my sight or if I'm not there to curb the bad behaviors of others. Like, I gotta make sure no one says any bullshit to her like, "oh, you're pretty for a dark-skinned girl". Gotta make sure no one comments on the contents of her plate and she develops an eating disorder. Gotta make sure that by the time she’s fifteen, she’s not tryna date some twenty-one year old prick. It’s fucking constant, Lu." 

"That last example, you speaking from experience?" 

She flashed him a savage grin. "Me? Hell no. No boy would come near me with a ten foot pole. They were too afraid of the Honorable Judge Fox throwing them in prison." She chuckled with a memory. "You know I used to tell guys my name was Tricia Cox, anything to get away from the notoriety of our family. But you know nobody can lie down there, everyone knows all your damn business." She sighed and passed off the joint before leaning back in the swinging chair, one leg idly dangling. "I did a lot of stupid things as a kid. I hope to create the type of environment where Tatiana doesn’t do the same. I used to hate Maman with a passion. She felt more like a jailor than a mother growing up. But now that I'm a mother, I get why she was like that. I don't even like Tatiana going two blocks to the corner store without me. I don't like the looks she’s starting to get from men." 

Such a thing was incomprehensible to Lucius. "She’s _nine_," he said emphatically. 

Trinity gave him a skeptical look. "That means nothing," she said coldly. "I was seven when men started harassing me. Go to any woman on the street, any age, any race, and ask her what age she was when men started looking at her sexually. I guarantee, _guaran-fucking-tee_ you won't hear any age older than thirteen, fourteen at absolute maximum."

He couldn’t wrap his head around that one. Obviously being a woman was no walk in the park but for a literal child to have to fend off grown men… "What happened to you?" he asked quietly.

She rolled her eyes lightly. "I was coming home from playing at Kallie Marshal’s house and I was almost at the road that turned to our house when a car pulled up next to me. The dude in the passenger seat leaned out the window and shouted at me to take a ride on his lap. He was easily twenty-five." 

Lucius looked stunned and Trinity continued. "I was scared but because I was so close to home, I felt braver. So I did what Lamont would have done. I bent down, scooped up some rocks and started throwing them at the car, started hollering. Don't remember what I said, I just knew to kick up a ruckus. And those men decided they ain’t want the trouble and they drove on. That's what I teach Tatiana, that she has the right to take up space and to make her voice heard no matter how others may try to silence her. Literally the opposite of Maman’s teachings for a girl to be quiet, complacent, and not cause any scenes." 

"I never knew," he said softly as he wondered just how thoroughly their lives had differed, just because of gender. "I'm sorry." 

Again, Trinity rolled her eyes. "It’s not your fault or your responsibility, Lucius. Sorry to say but men are just going to be disgusting and there's little that can change that. Example: why is ‘schoolgirl’ a porn category? Why would men want to jerk off to women dressed in school uniforms, knee socks, pigtails, the whole nine, if they weren’t attracted to the children those women were trying to emulate? Couple that with the porn-ideal that women should be completely without body hair, like children, and you got a recipe for major ick. It’s really sick and gross if you think too long about it." 

Trinity ashed the joint into one of her candles and passed it as a new thought occurred to her. "You remember when we were kids and Belinda Turner got mixed up with Pastor Worth?" 

"I remember," he replied with a nod. 

Trinity sneered and spat her contempt in the grass. "That nigga was _worthless_. A predator dressed in the clothing of the devout. And Maman and all her church cronies just lapped up his bullshit and blamed everything on Belinda, never mind she was fucking fourteen at the time. You know, I looked her up on Facebook last year. She’s living out in Mississippi, working at a Waffle House. She’s got three kids by three different dads and her life just looks sad. Now I'm not saying her life is shit because of what the pastor did to her but I'm sure it ain’t fucking help none. To be victimized then blamed then ostracized from the community for some shit a grown man did. If I was her, I'd’ve burned down our whole town out of the sheer injustice of it all." 

"The world’s messed up," he agreed. He took a final hit before stubbing the remainder out into the ashtray. "I was just telling someone that story," he recounted. "Not too long ago." 

"Oh yeah? Who were you regaling with tales of our childhood?" 

"A friend of mine," he answered evasively. "He’s an only child and by the end of the conversation, I think he was happy for that fact." 

"Screw you" she said, smiling as she took a sip of tea. "I'm sure you painted yourself as an aggrieved party, _Prince_ Lucius. The long suffering big brother trying to reign his siblings in." She rolled her eyes. 

She had come up with the moniker as a pre-teen and he’d always hated it. His siblings taunted him with the term, meant to evoke his ‘golden child’ status. Prince Lucius can do no wrong, his brother often sneered. 

"It’s not an inaccurate portrayal," he said, slouching back in his seat. The smoke had gone to his head and calmed him exactly as Trinity said it would. He’d put the night’s earlier events out of his head, at least for the time being. "Keeping an eye on the pair of you was a constant job," he complained lightly and shrugged. "Probably why Lamont loves to go jetset around the world, never mind that he never bothers telling anyone where he’ll be." 

"He’s in Queensland," Trinity answered quickly with a smirk. "Doing coke with a bunch of Aussie supermodels." 

Lucius scoffed; that absolutely sounded like his younger brother. "He called you?" 

"Nah, he just posts all the time on Snapchat. I keep telling you to get on social media." 

"I hope he at least turns his privacy settings on. I don't need it getting back to Maman and then she turns around and calls me crying about how Lamont’s embarrassing the family and asking me to talk some sense into him." 

"He’s a grown man," Trinity said stubbornly. "Let him do what he wants. You are too in case you forgot. You don't have to run around and do Maman’s bidding." 

"Dramatic, as always," Lucius dismissed her with a wave of his hand. 

"And you're a pompous dick," she shot back. "Wave me off again and see if I don't break your fingers." 

"You doin’ a lot of yapping, sis," Lucius teased while he mimed a talking mouth with his hand.

"Keep talking and I'ma fuck you up," she threatened, half laughing.

That jogged his memory and reminded him of an idea he’d been considering. Now seemed as good a time as any to breach it. "Trin," he said. "I think Tatiana should learn martial arts." 

Trinity’s eyebrows went up in surprise but then she gave it some thought. Her unease was clear in the set of her expression. "I don't know, Lucius. She’s… she’s so little. She barely clocks in at a hundred pounds. I can’t stand the idea of bigger kids beating up on her." 

"If she learns to defend herself that won't happen." He was quick to reassure. "And besides, she’s your daughter. You have a fighter’s spirit and she can too if we cultivate it."

Rather than look flattered at the praise, Trinity’s wore a look of distant uncertainty. "You know, I'm not so sure of that," she said quietly as she leaned back in her set. The suspended chair swung slowly back and forth. "I had you and Monty to chase after so it makes sense I was a little tomboy. She’s girlier than I was at that age, softer too. I get a sense that she’s meant for something different. She’s special." 

"Well, I know that but how do you mean?" 

"Her spirit is something else. She has a calming effect on others. You experienced it yourself just tonight. And Daddy was the same way. He could step into chaos and calm it without any effort. I figure it’s some quality that runs in our bloodline." 

Lucius wasn’t nearly as convinced as she seemed to be. There were always logical reasons for any given situation "Dad’s a judge. He calms chaos for a living. And Tati’s just a little girl." 

Trinity shrugged as unconvinced with his reasoning as he was with her beliefs. "Blood and spirit work in odd ways," she persisted. "We lost the way to understand such things but those that are hidden can show themselves in a person’s nature." 

This was some of the strange spiritualism she believed in. Lucius was not quick to entertain such notions, even if he was high. "What are you saying?" he asked, keeping his teasing tone light. "That she’s magic?" 

Trinity met his eyes and shrugged again, though a smile played about her lips. "I know you don't believe in anything you can’t see," she said reasonably. "But all things in this world can’t be explained scientifically." 

"If you say, Trin," he conceded, unwilling to argue further. "But back to the subject at hand. I think she could be a success. Her dancing has given her strength and stamina. She now needs the knowledge of how to most appropriately apply those skills." 

Trinity huffed a low, worried breath as she thought it over then asked, "Is there a martial art that's better suited for girls? Or just smaller people?" 

"I can do a bit of research, if you like," he volunteered. 

"No," she objected. "_I’ll_ look into it and I’ll get back to you about it."

Lucius stood up and wobbled slightly as his body felt heavier than he’d expected. "I think I'm really high," he stated, looking up at the stars. 

"Well that _was_ the idea," Trinity said as she stood up in turn. She grabbed Lucius' mug and her own before making her way to the door. Lucius moved in front of her and opened the sliding door to allow them back into the house. While Trinity went to place their mugs in the kitchen, Lucius stayed in the living room, teetering uncertainly. He hadn't intended to spend the night but he didn’t feel like he was in a safe enough state to drive. Trinity cleared up his dilemma by returning with a small stack of linens in hand. 

"Crash on the couch," she advised. As she passed him, she gave his face a critical look. "You need a shape up, Lu," she criticized. "Your hairline is looking jacked. I think I have one of your shirts here but no razors for you." 

"Doesn’t matter," he answered as he sat and started taking off his shoes. "I’ll stop at my place before I go to work tomorrow." Though as he said it, he felt he was more likely to call out and just have the day to himself. He’d see how the morning treated him. 

Trinity was standing over him and when he looked up, she smiled softly. "You should get some rest. You did a good thing today." She leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "_Wè ou nan maten an_," she said as her voice dropped with her perfect Creole accent. _See you in the morning._ __

_ __ _

_ __ _

"_Bonne nuit_," he replied wishing her good night in French. 

His sister vanished upstairs and Lucius made up the couch for the night. His earlier unease was gone and he worked automatically until his sleeping arrangements were completed and he flopped down, utterly exhausted. He usually felt this way after his illegal jobs, drained and somewhat desolate. He’d be alright with a day to decompress and relax. He fell into a dead sleep and if he was partially occupied with a nightmare of nooses, he only counted that as a hazard of the job. 

***

Hours later, he awoke before the rest of the house and let himself out after clearing up the couch and leaving Trinity a note. He’d have to go to Mooney’s to collect his fee but that could wait. He could also do with a shower and shave. For now, he wanted to be alone at home, secure in a safe space. 

He got home and crashed on the couch, choosing to forgo his responsibilities in favor of more time decompressing. Around midday, he was still idling lounging, watching the news, and petting a purring T'challa when he heard a knock at the door. Curious, he stood, cradling the cat to his chest and crossed the room to peek through the door’s peephole. He was a little surprised to see Ed Nygma, a bag in hand, one hand pushing his slick hair back. He looked rested and handsome as ever and Lucius felt a sting of insecurity with his grungy house clothes and unshaven face. But there was no way to fix his lax appearance now. He transferred T'challa to his shoulder and opened the door. 

Edward beamed brightly at the sight of him and Lucius was surprised at the intensity of his look. Especially when he realized that he felt a similar sensation of pleasure at having Ed turn up on his doorstep. Even if he hadn't called ahead first. 

"Good morning!" he exclaimed. "Er, or rather, afternoon." 

"Good afternoon," Lucius responded warmly as T'challa nuzzled him under the chin. "What are you doing here, Edward?" 

"I'm sorry I didn’t call ahead first," he said, immediately apologetic. "I just thought you might be so lost in your work that you've forgotten to eat so I brought you some soup." He held up the bag he carried as the indicator of his mission. 

Lucius was amused and just a little stunned. "You brought me soup?" 

"Yep!" He shook the bag lightly and Lucius reached out to take it from him. Ed's eyes were on his, his smile a bit more subdued. He did not seem bothered by Lucius' scruffy countenance; in fact, he seemed to be surveying the unfamiliar look with interest and appreciation. "I didn’t mean to intrude if you were still working. But if you're not, I thought we could hang out together." 

Lucius gave him a wry smile. "Is this a suggestion to ‘Netflix and chill’?"

Ed laughed. "Sure but only in the literal sense of the words. There's a documentary about a violent revolution in the Ukraine that I thought you might find interesting." 

Lucius listened then gave a small nod. "Well, the work I was doing has concluded. So I _would_ enjoy the company." 

Ed flashed a toothy grin and before Lucius could react, he’d stepped forward and thrown his arms around Lucius, drawing him into an embrace. 

He released a sharp exhale of shock but that quickly faded as he felt Ed's arms around him. He didn’t draw away; the contact felt heavenly after so many days with only his dark thoughts for companions. 

"You're feeling amorous today," Lucius commented, putting his mouth right next to Ed's ear. He was gratified to feel the other man shiver faintly.

"Yes, well…" Ed's embrace tightened briefly before he relaxed and pulled back slightly. "I confess to missing you." 

Lucius didn’t let Edward see how the flattery affected him but he was intensely pleased. His desire for solitude was suddenly snuffed out as he stepped aside to allow Ed entry. "Come in," he invited. Ed eagerly crossed the threshold and Lucius shut the door behind him, happy with his newfound companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with and I hope the content wasn't too crass or triggering for anyone. Comments are lifeblood so let me know what you think down below. Next chapter will be the Big Reveal. I'm working on another story for NaNoWriMo (a Lucius Fox original story that'll serve as a prequel to this) so chapter 8 may take a little time. Hang in there and I hope to read your thoughts along the way.


End file.
